


Nothing To Lose (And Everything To Gain)

by outoftheashes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Between dean and jo, Blood and Injury, Bottom Sam, Community: wincestbigbang, Dean Winchester Whump, Dean Winchester/Jo Harvelle - Freeform, Enemies to Lovers, First Time, Kidnapping, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Minor Character Death, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Sexual Bondage, One-Sided Attraction, Other: See Story Notes, POV Sam Winchester, Past Abuse, Recovery, Sam Winchester Whump, Sharing a Bed, Stockholm Syndrome, Top Dean Winchester, Virgin Dean Winchester, Wincest Big Bang 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-02 20:08:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16311899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outoftheashes/pseuds/outoftheashes
Summary: When Dean’s just a kid, he's kidnapped by the Alpha Vampire. Sam’s trained to be a hunter by John, who's fueled by revenge and a small sliver of hope that they might find Dean alive. Eventually, John dies in Cold Oak while there's still no sign of Dean or the Alpha's whereabouts. Sam never stops looking for his long lost brother.After finding the Alpha Vampire's lair and  killing him, Sam's met with resistance from Dean. He immediately hates Sam for taking away his Master, the only one he remembers loving him. Sam can’t take Dean to a psych ward, hospital, or halfway house. It would raise too many questions. Instead, he takes care of him the best that he can. Sam is in over his head and Dean is full of rage, trauma, and love deeper than Sam has ever known.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Wincest Big Bang. 
> 
> Thanks to Holly/Wearingdeantoprom for her art and beta work. Couldn't have finished this fic without you!
> 
> Spoiler: the nonconsensual drugging occurs when Sam’s saving Dean from the Alpha Vampire. Sam and Dean's relationship is very rocky at first - and for good reason. I'm not looking to villianize either of them. I simply wanted to explore different possibilities when people are recovering from abuse. 
> 
> Friendly reminder this is enemies to lovers! Dean isn't nice to Sam at first. I'm not saying it's healthy or right, but given what he's gone through, I think his reactions make sense.

“Are you _sure_ you don't want me to come with you?” Jimmy asks as they make their way to the library.

“I'm sure. Gotta do this by myself. Been training for this moment, you know?”

“Not really,” Jimmy grumbles. “It's reckless.”

Sam shrugs. “You're free to your opinion. And even if I was okay with taking someone, it wouldn't be you.”

“And why not?”

Jimmy sounds angry and hurt. Sam understands it. He does. But he isn't going to budge.

“You have a daughter who needs you. You aren't a trained hunter. I could go on, dude.”

“Fine. Make yourself comfortable,” Jimmy orders once they reach the library.

Sam nods and hops up onto a long, sturdy table. “Okay.”

Jimmy puts his case on the table beside Sam and pulls out a white cloth. On it goes a cross, which he kisses. Then a rosary, which he also kisses. Last is a bottle of holy water.

Sam worries his lip as he waits. He doesn't know how much this will help but if it'll put Jimmy at ease he can't deny him.

Jimmy picks up the rosary and winds it around his hand, letting the cross dangle. He crosses himself then crosses Sam. "In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.”

Sam's breath slows down as he listens to Jimmy's soothing voice. 

Jimmy runs his fingers through Sam's hair, pushing it back off his forehead. He picks up the holy water and gets some on his fingers. He draws a cross on Sam's forehead and places his palm over it. "Sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in proelio, contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium. Imperet illi Deus, supplices deprecamur: tuque, Princeps militiae coelestis, Satanam aliosque spiritus malignos, qui ad perditionem animarum pervagantur in mundo, divina virtute, in infernum detrude. Amen.”

_At least I got to see Jimmy. If I die on this hunt, I can be at peace._

Jimmy would hate Sam's line of thinking, which is exactly why he keeps it to himself.

 

* * *

 

  
There's no way it's not a trap. Hell, finding the Alpha _at all_ felt like a trap. He had been taunting Sam off and on for years, leaving breadcrumbs only to slip away before Sam could close in on the exact location. This time there had been no attempt to make the recent batch of attacks look like anything other than vampire bites and, to make it even easier, Sam was able to speak to a witness that led him right to the lair.

Despite knowing it's a trap, Sam's lurking inside the vampire lair. Waiting for the right moment to strike.  

The wet, hungry sounds of the Alpha feeding from Dean pulls Sam back to the present and he grips the Colt like a lifeline - because it is.

“Thank you, Master.” His brother's voice cuts Sam to the quick. It's full of pain and yet also strapped in somehow. Like there are emotions inside him he won't let out.

“You've been a good boy today. But it would do you well to learn how to play with others,” the Alpha vampire says once he's had his fill of Dean's blood.

"I don't need them, Master. Just you,” Dean replies with a soft growl.

"Yes. But I want them, Dean. So it's not up to you to decide, now is it? Master knows best," the Alpha says, his voice turning hard. There’s an undercurrent of a warning there. “We have company."   

"Yes, Master,” Dean says softly.

"Get inside the cage. Wouldn't want our company to hurt you."  

“Of course, Master.” There’s a sound of metal rattling as Dean gets in without a fight, making Sam's stomach clench. “Thank you for looking out for me.”

“Come out. I'm going to suck the marrow from your bones, boy.”

Sam takes a deep, cleansing breath before stepping into the Alpha's line of sight. “Let Dean go and we’ll just leave.”

“Sam,” the Alpha muses, on his throne made of bone and dirt. It's surrounded by flesh and entrails. He drags his claws along his thigh, a flicker of emotion coming to the surface when he sees the gun. “Why would I do that? Your father has killed so many of my children. So have you.”

“Yeah, I have. Saving people and hunting things. The family business. I wouldn't expect you to understand.” Sam catches Dean shivering from the corner of his eye. He glares, he can’t help it. "Why Dean? Why keep him alive for so many years? Why take a _child_?”

"Who doesn't want a prize like a hunter's son. And the son of John Winchester?" The Alpha stands and moves a couple feet away from his throne. "It helps that he grew up to be so beautiful... for a human."

Sam grits his teeth. He has to hold himself back, has to think or he’s going to end up dead. He keeps the Colt trained on the vampire and takes another cleansing breath. "Dean? You okay?"

Dean puts his hands on the bars of the cage and glowers at Sam in response.

“Don't bother talking to him, Dean. He'll be dead soon. The Colt can kill many things but not _me_.”

"Wanna bet your life on it?” Sam pulls the trigger and the bullet buries inside the Alpha’s skull. He crumples to the floor in a heap, dead. “I would have been torn to shreds already if you were being honest.”

 “Master! Master?” Dean grips the cage and starts to thrash around inside it, frantic to break free.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," Sam says with a wince, making his way over to the fallen vampire so he can grab the key to Dean's cage. "But he had to die."

"No... no no no. What did you _do_? I'll fucking kill you!”

Sam fiddles with the key and walks over to Dean, bending down so they are eye to eye. "I would really rather you didn't."

Dean scoots to the back of the cage, looking stuck between wanting to take flight and wanting to destroy Sam.

"I'm here to take you home," Sam says softly. "Don't you want a shower? Food? A comfortable bed to sleep in? You look like you've seen hell."

" _This_ is my home,” Dean growls. He points at the dead vampire. " _He_ is my home."

“Home feels even better when you're with people who love you,” Sam says as he puts the key in the lock.

"He loves me! I'm his good boy.”

Dean’s been shattered into a million pieces and it's Sam's _fault._

“He doesn't love you. Not the way I do,” Sam says, clinging to this one shred of truth.

“You don't even know me.”

"Doesn't matter. You're my brother. My flesh and blood brother." Sam leans into the cage a little. "I'm not leaving you. I've been looking for you my whole life.”

Dean lunges forward and bites Sam's hand _hard._

Sam yelps and twists in pain, moving back which allows Dean time to leave the cage. “You can't get rid of me that easily.”

Dean levels him with a glare of hatred. Then he slams into him, catching him off guard and makes him stumble. A few heartbeats is all it takes - Dean’s hands are around Sam's throat, squeezing the life out of him.

Sam works fast, wriggling and twisting his body, trying not to panic. He bends forward to get Dean off balance, using all his strength so Dean might let go. He doesn't want to choke Dean back unless he absolutely has to. Doesn't want to hurt him _at all._

And, _thank fuck,_ it works. Dean wavers and Sam sends his brother to the floor, quickly straddling him. Dean fights, scratching and punching. He yells and bucks, trying to get Sam off.

Sam takes out his backup plan - a syringe full drugs that will keep Dean asleep long enough to bring him home and make sure he's secure - and moves to inject it into his brother's arm. He can't continue to waste time in a vampire’s lair. They need to get out of here. _Fast._

 “ _Fuck you_!” Dean continues to fight hard until the drugs take effect. Finally, Dean’s movements slow and stop all together as he drifts off.

Sam gathers Dean into his arms and carries him out of the lair as quick as he dares.

_Holy shit._

Dean. He has Dean.

Dean's _free._

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

  
Sam paces while he waits for Jody to show up, his hand absently rubbing his throat. His phone buzzes, alerting him to Jody's closeness. Sam goes outside to meet her even though he’s terrified to leave Dean alone for a single second.

“Hey.” Jody watches Sam as he closes the between them. Normally, she'd offer Sam a smile. Not today. “I came as soon as I could.”

He pulls Jody into a hug, in part because he's genuinely happy to see her but also because he doesn’t want her to notice he's on the verge of tears. "I really appreciate it. It's really bad in there. I won't judge you if you change your mind."

“If he’s family to you, Sam, then he is family to me. I'll do what I can. Bobby can hold down the fort for a few weeks without me.”

Sam lets go of Jody and points to his bruised throat. "You might end up guilty to him just by association since I killed his Master. I hope it won't be that bad... But I need you to know he's violent. Dangerous. But beneath that I'm sure he's incredibly scared.”

Jody nods, the grim expression never leaving her face. “Is he, you know, human?”

Sam sniffs, swallowing back the pain. "Yeah. He wasn't turned. Dean's got a ton of scars, though. Vamp bites."  
  
While Sam was learning to read, Dean was a source of food. While Sam was kept warm at night, Dean was starved and probably beaten. Sam hasn’t seen the extent of Dean's injuries but he doesn’t need to. He knows his brother has lived through what most people can't even dream of.

"Okay... let's go see him then." Jody reaches out to squeeze Sam's shoulder.

He doesn't deserve the comfort, the warmth of her hand on him.

_I should have saved him sooner. Should have fought for him harder._

It doesn't stop him from leaning into the contact for a moment before pulling himself together and gesturing for her to follow him.

Once in the bunker, he leads her to Dean's room - of course it's next to Sam's. “He's in here and he's chained. I can't risk him being free to walk around right now.”

Jody's jaw tightens but she doesn't seem to be judging Sam too harshly. “Understandable.”

Sam pushes the door open, preparing for the worst. He's torn between watching her and his brother. God, he hopes Dean won’t hurt Jody too.

A lamp hits the wall near Sam's head and shatters. " _Fuck off!_ " Dean bellows. "You think you'd get the idea when I tried to fucking kill you!”

Sam flinches. "Jody's here to see you."  
  
Jody enters the room, keeping her hands in Dean's line of sight. "Hey. I can see you're angry. I get it, I would be too in your position. But do you think you can take a few deep breaths? I'm here to make sure you're okay.”  
  
“Of course I'm not okay!” Dean’s clutching a large shard of glass in one hand. Blood drips from his fingers and onto the floor. He softens a little towards Jody but, understandably, his walls are impenetrable. "Get out."

"No," Jody says. Her voice is firm but not in a disrespectful way. "You're here for rehabilitation, Dean. This is part of that process. Please let me help you.”  
  
Dean glowers at Jody. Then he directs his attention to Sam. His expression darkens even further. He’s quiet a moment before he explodes, pointing the makeshift knife at Sam.  
  
" You _stole_ me away! You _killed_ my family!" His lower lip trembles a little. "You _murdered_ the only person who ever loved me." His loud and angry shouting dissolves into a sob.

"That's not true," Sam rasps. "That vampire stole you from _me_ first. From dad. And all dad ever wanted was revenge. Wanted to find you  and bring you home. I get the vampire felt like family... But he had no right to you."

Dean walks as close as the chains allow him. " _Master_ taught me everything I know. _Master_ gave me a home. _Master_ fed me and kept me safe. He gave me everything. All you've done is take that away."

Sam shrugs, trying not to let Dean’s words get to him. "If that's how you see it, so be it. Doesn't change the fact he kidnapped you. Doesn't change the fact he caused us a hell of a lot of heartache."  
  
Jody chooses that moment to get between them. "Dean," she says gently. "The antagonism isn't going to make this better or less stressful for anyone.”

A few tears run down Dean's cheeks. "Just let me go. I need Master."

"I know, sweetheart. It's gonna hurt for a while. But I have faith you'll start to understand why you're here. Right now... this is the safest place for you. You need to be with your brother.”

Dean sneers. “He isn't my brother.”

Jody rubs a hand over her face. "Fine. Biologically, you're related. He might not feel like family but he loves you and wants you to be safe.”

“Why are _you_ here?” Dean throws back at her.

"Because I care about Sam," she answers simply. "No way was I going to turn him down when he asked for help. Now, are you gonna let me examine your hand? Do I gotta use my mom voice?"

“He can leave,” Dean says, jutting his chin at Sam.

"No." Jody shakes her head. "Sam stays.”

Dean's eyes dart between Sam and Jody, calculating. He looks every bit like a wild animal. "Fine.”

"Can you sit on the bed?" she asks gently.

“Whatever.” Dean obeys, hand clenching tighter around his weapon as he drags his chains behind him. Jody follows, waiting for Dean to sit first before joining him on the bed.

"Good thing I brought a first aid kit," Jody grumbles, pulling it out of her bag. Then she grabs a cloth. "Here. Let's press this against the wound for a minute."

After putting pressure on the cut she takes a long look at it. "Given the depth of the wound and location, I think you need stitches," she says, hissing in sympathy. "Don't want it getting infected, trust me."  
  
Dean shrugs, seemingly unaffected.

Jody bites her lip and glances at Sam. "He's better at stitches than I am."  
  
"Regardless of my skills, I think it's safe to say me treating him is a terrible idea," Sam says, laughing but there was no humor to be found in the sound. "And you're more than capable anyway."

“I don't want him near me,” Dean confirms.

Sam sighs and makes himself comfortable on the floor far away from Dean. "That's what I thought.”

 

* * *

 

 

That night, Sam walks into Dean's room, belly tight with anxiety. He places a bowl, washcloth, and soap on the floor. Then he lovingly puts an old pair of jeans and his purple dog shirt on Dean’s bed. Right now, anything that isn't soiled and bloodstained will be a vast improvement. It's completely possible that Dean’s current outfit has never been washed.

“You hungry, Dean?”

“I could eat.”

Sam gazes at his brother, a man he never expected to look at him with such pure hatred. "What would you like?"  

“I don't care.” Dean tugs at his chains.

 _He wants to escape. Why wouldn't he? You haven’t given him a reason to want to stay._  
  
"Ok, I'll be right back."  
  
A few minutes later, Sam hands over a beer and a grilled cheese sandwich. He kneels on the floor and offers it to Dean. "Here."

“You gonna drug me again?” Dean asks after sniffing the beer. He takes a big bite out of the sandwich, eyeing Sam suspiciously.

“No.” Sam winces, feeling like the biggest piece of shit. “I didn't wanna drug you in the first place. I… I thought our first meeting would be awkward but I didn't expect you to get so angry.”

 “Really?” Dean sips the beer, swishing it in his mouth before swallowing. “If you weren't expecting it, why'd you have the drugs ready to go, hmm? I think you planned it.”

Sam flushes hot with shame. “It's complicated.”

“Whatever lets you sleep at night.” Dean takes another drink, a longer one this time. It’s as if he's drinking water. Dean wolfs down his sandwich in a minute or two, barely taking the time to breathe.

Sam notes the way Dean eats the sandwich with a frown. _God_. Of course he’s starving, why wouldn't he be? "I can bring you more.”

“Yeah. That'd be good. More beer too.”

A few minutes later, Sam enters the room with another sandwich and beer. His lips twitch as he hands it over. “Careful. It's not water, dude.” Then he moves to his designated corner again.

This time, Dean eats slower, eyes on Sam. “Gimme the soap.”  
  
"Okay," Sam murmurs, pushing the soap and washcloth over to Dean. Then he takes the deep bowl and fills it with water. He returns to his brother, slightly out of breath from how fast he'd been moving. "Here you go."

Dean takes the bowl from him and immediately starts washing his face.

Sam bites his lip, trying not to watch Dean but it’s so hard. He has so many questions for his brother, none of which feels appropriate to ask.  
  
"Dad would be so happy if he could see you right now," he finally says. "Hurt by what you endured... But so happy you're alive. He, ah. He lost hope. And then died to save me. Literally sold his soul.”

Dean's eyes narrow. He starts cleaning the back of his neck. "He shouldn't of bothered. Then I'd still be with my Master."

Sam sucks in a breath and quickly stands to his feet. He rushes out of the room and slams into his, grabbing a picture off his nightstand. Sam caresses it momentarily before stalking back into Dean's room, dropping the picture on Dean's leg.  
  
"Look at it.”  
  
It’s Dean. Dean and Sam. Dean’s maybe five-years-old and Sam’s a big, fat, healthy baby. His hands frame Dean's face and they’re both laughing in delight.

“Are those kids supposed to mean something to me?” Dean asks, glancing at the photo as he keeps scrubbing his body.

“That's you. And me. You loved me once. Do you really not remember?”

“I don't.”

He should have known. Dean had been so young, of course he didn't remember. A picture wouldn't magically change a single damn thing.  
  
Still...  
  
"You could keep it. I have extras.”

"I don't want it,” Dean replies, dipping the washcloth back into the water that’s filthy with dirt and blood.

 

* * *

 

 

  
Sam runs from Dean's room as soon as he can, tears clouding his vision. He hates to admit it but the barbs hit their mark - Dean not giving a shit about their childhood picture together is sending Sam into a quick downward spiral.

"Woah,” Jody says as Sam narrowly misses colliding into Jody. "You okay there Sam?"

Sam shakes his head and keeps his eyes off of Jody's face. "Not really."  

Jody reaches out and pulls Sam into a tight hug. She doesn't fill the silence with unnecessary words, which Sam appreciates.

The physical connection breaks the dam inside Sam and he exhales shakily. "Jody... am I doing the right thing here? Maybe... Maybe I'm not cut out for this. Dean needs help. _Professional_ help.”

Jody rubs Sam's back, her body heat melting into him. "Professional help isn't a bad idea... but who could we trust?”

"There's gotta be someone," Sam insists, desperation creeping into his tone. "A therapist that knows about the supernatural. There's gotta be _someone_ in the mental health field that can shed some light on what our best course of action is. Clearly, I'm doing something wrong.”

Jody doesn’t stop rubbing Sam's back. "I'll do some research. Bobby might be able to help too. It's a long shot but it's one I'll take. But Sam… you can't make him go. You can't make him participate. Even if we find a therapist, it’s gotta be _his_ choice.”

"I know." Sam sighs and pulls away from Jody. "I know I can't force Dean. I know it's gotta be his decision. I just hate seeing him suffer. I hate feeling so useless. I don't feel like I'm doing a good job, not at all. If anything, I feel like I'm the bad guy and I'm making it worse.”

"Just remember _why_ you’re doing this, Sam. Don't let Dean get under your skin."

"He kinda already has," Sam admits with a wince. “Maybe I should get back into hunting full time. Give Dean some space. You two seem to be getting along okay.”

 “Take breaks if you need them but _don't_ run away from him, Sam. Not yet. He needs time to adjust. Both of you do.”

“I feel like I need a break every time I look at him,” Sam mutters before he can stop himself. Dean's so _hard_ and, yeah, it's what Sam signed up for. Sure, he hadn't fully prepared for how painful it would be, but it didn't change the facts. Taking Dean had consequences. Sam has to live with them - whether he likes them or not.

Jody nods. "Maybe _you_ could use some therapy too,” she says gently.

“Maybe.”

It's not that he hadn't thought about it. He never had _time_ for it before. Sitting in a comfortable chair pouring out his guts and turning over every stone while his brother was missing - it felt _wrong_.

But now Dean's back and things aren't better. He's not ready to admit it out loud - but Jody’s right. Sam needs professional help, too.

“Go take care of yourself, Sam.”

“I'll try.”

 

* * *

 

 

The cuffs are rolled up on Dean’s jeans. Sam can't stop looking at them. Dean’s _swimming_ in his clothes. “You're really keen on keeping me, huh?”

"You need help adjusting to the real world. Keeping you with me is the best option we have right now. When you start to recover from your trauma, I'll be happy to let you go.”

_Liar, liar, pants on fire._

As a kid, he'd had so many hopes and dreams for what reuniting with his brother might be like. Letting him go again hadn't been something he'd prepared for.

“Not the best option,” Dean grumbles.

"If you think the best option is letting you out of my sight then forget about it," Sam nearly growls. He’s sure he’ll hate himself for losing his cool later but Dean has hit a nerve. "You're my brother. Mine. I've been searching for you my whole fucking life and I'm not throwing it all away _now_. Not yet.”

"You are so fucking selfish. This is all for _your_ benefit. You didn't even think about how I'd feel or what would happen to me. You just wanted your brother. Newsflash! Your brother is dead!”

Sam barks out a laugh. "Newsflash! _Everyone_ is selfish to some extent. I don't know a single person who makes decisions solely for others. If they don't look out for themselves, no one else will. You basically just called me human. Congrats. You're right. I _am_ human.”

“I don't wanna look at you anymore,” Dean hisses. “Get the _fuck_ out!”

Sam crosses his arms over his chest. “Maybe I don't want to.”

Dean rushes him, going as far as the chains allow. Sam easily dodges him, moving back so Dean won’t be able to reach him no matter how much he lunges. "I'm not going."

“Fuck you!” Dean spits.

Sam shrugs. "Yeah. Fuck me. That's cool, you can say whatever you want. But that doesn't mean I need to go."

Dean sends a scathing look at Sam and turns to his mattress. Sam's stomach drops when Dean pulls out a piece of glass that he had been hiding beneath it.

_How the fuck did we miss that one?_

“No!” Sam runs at Dean and tries to wrestle him to the floor. Dean cries out in surprise as he falls.

“Drop it,” Sam says, putting almost his entire weight on Dean.

“No way!” Dean squirms, trying to throw Sam off.

Sam doesn't budge.

"Well then I guess I'm just gonna make myself comfortable here on top of you. Can't let you have weapons. Sorry.”

“I'll never stop hating you.”

"I know." Sam offers Dean a small, sad smile. "You’ve made that perfectly clear. But it doesn't change how I feel."

“You don't even _know_ me, you goddamn psychopath,” Dean says.

“So you’ve said. But if your feelings are valid mine are too.”

“I have a good reason to hate you,” Dean growls.

Sam arches a brow. “But I don't have a good reason to love you?”

“You ruined my life.”

“Your Master ruined mine by taking you.”

“Get off,” Dean says, struggling again. “Get the _fuck_ away from me.”

“Give me the glass first,” Sam replies seriously.

Dean drops it and Sam's quick to push it out of his reach. “Thank you.” Sam rolls off his brother and picks up the glass before he stands up. “Gonna have to do a full sweep in here. Make sure there's no more surprises.”

Dean rolls over so his back is to Sam, shutting him out. Sam leaves momentarily to dispose of the glass before returning to Dean's room and settling down with a book.

_God, I hope Jody comes in soon._

They'd been taking Dean in shifts, which Sam is increasingly grateful for. If it was just him he's not sure he would have survived. And, yeah, that probably sounds overly dramatic as fuck but so is the situation.

Soon Dean's breathing changes. After watching him a full thirty seconds, Sam concludes he is either asleep or an excellent actor. Sam waits until Dean’s deep into sleep then picks him up off the floor and carries him to the bed bridal style.

It's not long before Dean is muttering and whimpering in his sleep.

“Hey.” Sam's not sure he's doing the right thing, he's almost positive he's not, but he walks back over to the bed and leans over to place a hand on Dean. “I'm here.”

Dean's words aren't clear but it's obvious he's in distress. He twitches and shifts in agitation.  
  
Sam can’t even say 'it's just a dream.' Some of this waking nightmare is on Sam, there’s no doubt.  
  
But, if he had a chance to do it over again? He would. He'd kill the monster that took Dean, even knowing that Dean would hate his guts.

“I won't leave you,” Sam promises fiercely. “I'm right here.”

“Master!” Dean gasps.

He's awake. He knows because Dean’s head turns to Sam, looking right through him. Sam's  hand drops away from Dean.

Dean stares at Sam, saying nothing.  

“You were dreaming. Can I get you anything?”

“No.” Dean hugs himself.

How often had Dean been forced to comfort himself as a child? Did he even know what gentle, consensual touch was? Sam goes back to his corner and stays put until Jody gently shakes him awake, there to take her shift.

 

* * *

 

 

A week later, Sam's experiencing cabin fever. He lets Jody know he needs to head out a few hours, which she graciously agrees to. Jody doesn't demand he come back at a specific time. The look on her face tells Sam just how much she gets it.

He leaves, happy to get away from Dean. But there's another reason he's happy. When he enters the strip club, his eyes scan the bar. It's not long before he finds who he's looking for.

“The man himself returns,” Max says when their eyes meet. He abandons his drink without hesitation and walks up to greet Sam. “Thought you had disappeared.”

“How are you?” Sam tugs Max into a hug, clinging to him.

“Better now that you're here. It was boring without you.” Max kisses Sam's cheek, fingers dragging along his sternum.

“It's been hell. And a long story. You got time?”

“Let's sit and drink. You can tell me all about it,” Max says, booping Sam's nose.

Sam bats Max’s hand away, quickly taking his seat. “Remember when I told you I've been looking for my brother?”

Max nods, pouring Sam some Disaronno from the bottle he'd been nursing.

“I found him.” Sam takes a big, shaky breath. “He's at home. Nowhere else for him to go.”

“That's fantastic news! Right? I'm happy for you.”

Sam sniffs. “No. It's a fucking mess. He wishes I was dead. He wants to leave and do god knows what.”

“Who could hate you?” Then, more seriously, “what happened to him?”

“It was even worse than I could have imagined,” Sam says, lips trembling. “I found him in a cage. Filthy. Probably starving. The vampires weren't gentle with him.”

“Shit,” Max breathes. “I'm so sorry.”

“Yeah.” Sam rubs at the back of his neck. “I can't take him to a hospital or psych ward. No halfway house. His bites would raise too many questions. They don't look human, obviously. So he's stuck with me. But he can't stand me because I killed his Master. I don't know how to fix this.”

Max taps his finger to his lips. “What's his behavior like?”

“Violent,” he rasps, pointing to the fading bruises on his throat. “Dean tried to kill me. Almost succeeded.”

Max nods. “Anything else?”

Sam shrugs. “He's nicer to Jody. Has nightmares about losing his Master. If he's not aggressive, he's full of anxiety. It's not like he can get a prescription.”

Max licks his lips. “Have you thought of something more natural?”

Sam sits up straight. “Actually, I have. I didn't want to go this route in case it wasn't ethical… but I think magic is my only hope.”

“If you come with me I can whip something up.”

 

* * *

 

  
Max drives Sam to his two bedroom apartment. One room is for sleeping and the other is for his practice.

  
It’s full of crystals and gemstones. There's a cabinet of herbs in labeled bottles. Drying herbs hang from the ceiling. An altar space as well as a desk.  
  
Max goes to the cabinet and grabs some supplies. "Lets see.”

Sam browses the gemstones and crystals while Max does his thing. Jody is going to give Sam the third degree if she finds out what Sam is up to, he's pretty sure. If she didn't approve of Sam hanging out with a witch, she'll certainly be pissed he kept everything to himself.

In this case, it's better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

Max grinds up the herbs that he selects in a large batch. He brings the mortar and pestle over to his altar and lights a few candles by waving his hand over them. From there he begins a chant that starts off slow and quiet.

  
Sam keeps his eyes on Max. He has so many questions but he doesn't want to risk distracting Max and ruining whatever progress has been made.

  
Finally, Max snaps his fingers and a flame poofs over the mortar. From his herb cabinet, Max retrieves some tea bags and starts to spoon the herbs into the little bags.  "This tea should help him out."

“I guess the hard part will be getting him to drink it,” Sam says, offering Max a sad smile.

Max winks. “Part of the spell was to make it taste fantastic.”

“How much do I owe you?”

Max rolls his eyes. “I don't want your money. You need it more than I do. We're coworkers. _Friends._ You've helped me more than once. I'm happy to do this for free, Sam.”

Sam gives Max a dubious look but doesn't really have time to argue. So he doesn't.

Not long after getting situated in Max’s car, his phone buzzes. Sam frowns and picks up. “Yeah?”

“You need to come home.”

Sam's whole body tenses. “What's going on? Are you okay?”

“I'm fine. But Dean isn't. He's torn his room apart. I can't calm him down.”

"Fuck." Sam rubs a hand over his face. "If you can't calm him down, what makes you think I can? I make it worse.”

“I've tried everything.”

“Okay. Uh. I’m in the car right now. Protect yourself and I'll be home as soon as I can.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next thirty minutes is a blur. They make it back to the club, Sam quickly places the tea in his own car, chats with the boss, and hugs a few coworkers before heading out for food and then the bunker.

Jody meets Sam at the door with a grim expression.

"Think he'll appreciate food?" Sam asks, holding up the bag full of fries and burgers. "Do you want any?"

“Maybe after we have him settled.”

Sam nods seriously. "So..." He hesitates. "You _really_ think I should see him?”

“I don't think you can make it any worse. We don't have much to lose.”

Sam heads to Dean's room, bag of food and freshly made magic tea in hand. Dean’s eyes are wild and he throws a pillow at Sam's face when he enters. He bites back a ‘really?’ because that sure as shit wouldn't help. “I'll go,” he says, placing the food on the ground.

“Wait.”

“What's up?”

Dean looks away. “I don't wanna say.”

“Then how am I supposed to help? Not much I can do when I'm in the dark,” Sam points out.

“I need Master.” Dean drops down to the floor.

It isn't the first time Sam has seen him and thought _feral_. Clothes don't change that. Sam joins Dean on the floor, scooting over to him. "You know that's not possible."

"Everything hurts. I don't know what to do about it,” Dean says. He refuses to meet Sam's eyes.

"What hurts?" Sam rasps, reaching out to touch Dean but then freezes. "Your body? Or is it an emotional thing?"

“Both.”

“Is the physical pain something we need to look at?” Sam asks, concern filling his voice.

Dean shakes his head. “No way.”

_Like he's gonna agree to that, you idiot._

“I brought food,” Sam offers.

“I know,” Dean snaps. “I have eyes. Thought you were taunting me with it.”

The words are another painful reminder of what Dean's gone through. Despite him begging for his master, he's traumatized. That much is clear. Sam can't take his comments personally.

“It’s for you,” he finally says when he's calm.

“So give it to me!”

Sam arches an eyebrow. “Can you say please?”

“I'm fucking hungry! Give me the food or get the hell out of my face,” Dean says, showing his teeth.

"It would be nice if you could stop snapping at me for five seconds," Sam murmurs, handing Dean the food.

  
"It would be nice if you didn't keep me chained up like a dog." Dean takes a big bite of his burger. “You're the only thing keeping me from my freedom. Course I'm not gonna be nice to you.”

“I'm a _person_ , Dean. Not a _thing_.” Sam gives Dean a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. “And that's why you're chained up. You're dangerous to yourself and others.”

Dean finishes his burger and fries in silence. "Where's the beer?" he asks.

“No beer.” Sam hands over the tea. “Drink this. It'll help with your emotional pain.”

Dean scowls but sniffs the tea. He swishes it around in his mouth much like he had done with the beer that first time and hums. “It’s okay.” But the look on Dean's face betrays him - Max’s tea is delicious.

_Thank God for Max._

Soon the anger fades from Dean's eyes. His body language shifts. He softens, almost _relaxed_.

“You're looking better,” Sam muses.

“Do something already or stop.” Dean's tone doesn't hold the normal biting edge but the words cut into Sam anyway. Ice sinks into his guts as Dean spreads his legs.

“What do you mean?” he asks, even though it's hard _not_ to know. “What are you doing?”

Dean lifts his ass off the ground a few seconds, swaying from side to side. “Oh, don't be like that. Don't pretend. If you haven't let me go yet it's cause you're a damn pervert. Wanna break in the merchandise, huh? Well lucky for you, I don't care right now. Go for it.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” Sam swallows back the burning lump in his throat. “I _love_ you, Dean. Like a _brother_. Not looking to take advantage of you. I know you have no reason to believe me but it's true.”

“You're fucking obsessed. It's pathetic.”

_He's not listening to me._

Sam clenches his teeth and stands up. “I’m gonna go.”

Dean laughs in victory as Sam flees.


	3. Chapter 3

It's late and Sam's winding down for bed when Dean calls for him. He warily makes his way into Dean’s room in sweats, the amulet resting on his bare chest, giving him much needed comfort from the conversation earlier that had left him raw and confused.  “Yeah?”

“Can I shower?”

At this point, Dean’s only had sponge baths. It makes Sam feel like shit but there’s too much concern regarding what Dean might do if he were free to roam.

But it's hard to flat out deny him when being asked this directly.

“You won't hit me if I let you out?”

Dean's quiet a long time. If he'd answered right away there's no way Sam would believe him. But Dean is clearly weighing his options and taking Sam’s question into serious consideration. “I just want a shower. I'll be good.”

  
"Okay," Sam rasps against his better judgement, fishing the keys out of his pants. "Lemme see your ankles."

Dean presents his ankles to Sam and Sam puts the key in the lock. Soon, the chains are falling away.

_He can run. He can try to kill me or himself. He can hurt Jody._

Dean doesn't. He waits for Sam to stand up and together they walk to the bathroom.

  
"The water pressure is amazing. I'll... um. Stay out here while you clean up.”

Dean disappears and is gone maybe a minute before peeking out of the bathroom at Sam. "I've changed my mind. Come in.”

  
Sam swallows back his shock and walks into the bathroom, standing awkwardly, trying not to draw attention to the fact that Dean is _naked_. "Where do you want me? On the toilet?"

“I don't care,” Dean says. Sam's not sure if he should celebrate Dean not caring about his nakedness or be disturbed by it. “Just stay.”

  
"I can do that." Sam bites his lip and sits down.

Dean lets out a tiny moan as he gets in the shower and Sam squirms, keeping his eyes in his lap.

"Dude! You aren't jerking off in there, are you?"

"It's been a long time since I've had a good shower. Cool your jets."

Sam coughs. "Sorry. I just... You know. Wasn't expecting you to sound that into it."

“Shut up and let me enjoy this,” Dean growls.

Sam winces and shuts up.

He has a towel open and waiting for Dean when Dean steps out of the shower. Sam wraps it around his brother, keeping his eyes off Dean’s body. "If you come with me to my room, we can find more clothes for you."

“All right.” Dean clears his throat and shuffles away from Sam.

Once in his room, Sam points at his dresser and closet. "Take whatever.”

Dean picks out a simple black shirt and flannel. He pulls those on without warning  along with sweats as ill-fitting as everything else he's worn since being with Sam.

“You can pick out extras,” Sam says.

“To borrow? Or keep?”

"To keep," Sam replies easily. "Although you can give it all back after I buy things that fit you properly if you want."

“No one's given me anything to keep before.”

“Well, that's gonna change. You wanna go back to your room?”

“I don't want the chains.”

Sam squints at him. “If you don't want the chains, you're sleeping in here with me. Which is it?”

“With you.”

“Can I trust you?” Sam asks, even though he's pretty sure that no matter what Dean says he won't trust Dean. Just like Dean doesn't trust him. “It would _really_ suck if you tried to kill me again.”

“Oh, come on.” Dean rolls his eyes. “That was one time.”

Sam can't help it, he actually barks out a laugh. “Fine. No chains. No handcuffs. Just… don't make me regret it, yeah?”

“Whatever,” Dean sighs and shuffles over to Sam's bed. “I'm fucking tired.”

“Me too,” Sam says, lips twitching. “Ah. Can I keep my shirt off? Maybe I should get on the -"

Dean shoots him a look of complete irritation. That is, until his eyes settle on Sam's chest. “What's that?”

  
"You won't care," Sam says, covering the amulet. "Forget you saw. You'll hate it.”

“No. I wanna know.”

Sam sighs through his nose. "Fine.” He moves closer and removes his hand so the amulet is Dean’s line of sight again. "Got it from Bobby. Said it was a protective charm. There's even rumors that it burns in the presence of God.  Promised myself that if I ever gave it to anyone, it would be you.”

Dean grunts in response.

_Well, that could have gone better. But it could have gone worse too._

“I've been saving it for you since I was eight,” Sam adds after a moment.

“That's a long ass time,” Dean finally says. He stares at Sam. “Well? What are you waiting for? Get into bed.”

Sam smiles.

 

* * *

 

 

In the morning when Sam wakes up, Dean is wrapped around him, snoring lightly and drooling on Sam's pectoral, a hand splayed across Sam's hip.

“Um… Dean?” Sam squirms, trying to extricate himself from Dean’s tight grip.

  
"Mm," Dean moans, eyes closed. "Stop moving."

Sam doesn't. If anything, he wiggles even more, gently pushing on Dean's body. “Off.”

“Shut up,” Dean says, snuggling impossibly closer.

“If I had known you were a stealth snuggler, I’d have put a wall of pillows between us,” Sam complains, his cheeks heating up as he pokes Dean in the ribs. “ _Wake up_.”

Dean's eyes flutter open, his long lashes tickling Sam's chest. He gives Sam a dazed look before flailing back and away from him with a yelp.  

Sam sighs and sits up. "I promise I didn't bad touch you. Was only trying to get you off of me.”

“Bad touch me? I'm not five.”

Sam rolls his eyes. "I know that. But your fight or flight response tells me you felt unsafe. So I'm trying to say I wouldn't hurt you like that.”

“Wasn't scared,” Dean says, lifting his chin in defiance. “Just wanted to get away from you.”

“Okay. Sorry. I'll try to do better.”

“Whatever,” Dean grumbles then grabs his clothes and starts to dress.

“Uh.” Sam flushes and averts his eyes. Looking is a level of _wrong_ Sam isn't okay with. Dean might be okay with nudity but he sure isn't.

“Don’t like what you see?”

“That's not funny,” Sam says, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“What's for breakfast?”

Sam risks a glance at Dean and sees he's dressed, the drawstrings on Sam's old sweats pulled as snug and tight as they'll go. “Whatever you want. I'm flexible.”

“Bacon. Pancakes. Beer,” Dean announces.

“Scratch that. No can do on the beer,” Sam says with a wince.

“You're so fucking uptight,” Dean growls.

Sam's eyebrows quirk. “Oh really? I'm uptight for not having a never-ending supply of alcohol in the house? This isn't a liquor store.”

“So buy some? Being drunk is fucking awesome.”

"No." Sam shakes his head. "There's something else I can give you that will relax you though. It's natural. You liked that tea, remember? Said it tasted good. Could make some of that."

“ _Fine_ ,” Dean says, clearly not fine.

Sam nods and stands up, blushing as he picks out his own clothes to change into. "You might wanna look away.”

"Not a chance," Dean replies, crossing his arms.

_Can't hide in the bathroom._

While Dean's doing better, Sam can't say he trusts him fully just yet. For all Sam knows, Dean will run at the earliest opportunity. Hell, Sam sure would if he were Dean.  
  
"Fine." After taking a deep, cleansing breath Sam pushes down his sweats, then his underwear. It’s hard to know where to look. At Dean feels too intimate. Looking away doesn’t seem right either. In the end, Sam awkwardly takes in Dean's chest.

“You must be a shitty hunter to have so many scars.”

Sam cringes and turns so he’s facing away from his brother, giving Dean the perfect view of his marred back.  
  
"I dare you to find a hunter without at least one."

A finger trails down the long scar, a cruel caress. Dean is crowding right up in his space, way too close. "Yeah but you have a shit ton... How'd you even get inside Master's lair when you're such a fucking failure?”  

Sam hisses through his teeth, tears burning his eyes as he flinches away from Dean's touch. "Don't.”

“Oh, did I hurt your precious feelings? Hit a nerve, honey?” Dean's words cut sharper than any knife while his touch is disturbingly gentle.

Sam pulls on his clothes as quickly as possible, the spell broken. “Breakfast should be ready within an hour. Now _fuck off._ ”

He doesn't mean to say that last part. It's immature, rude, and not at all Sam - but the words are out, hanging in the air just the same. They're a testament to just how deeply he'd been hurt.

Sam doesn't stay long enough to hear any more snarky comments.

 

* * *

 

 

  
A couple months later, Dean is able to wander the bunker day and night with little to no supervision. He's still in the process of healing from his psychological scars and will be for a long time - but he seems to be softening. The ice around his heart has melted a little. Maybe. It could be desperate hope on Sam's part.  
  
It occurs to Sam that he never got Dean his own clothes. If Dean will allow it, and he really thinks he might, it is the goal for today. So he sets off to find his brother in the vast expanse of the bunker and finds him in Sam's room.

"Hey! What are you doing in here?" Sam asks, keeping his tone as neutral as possible as he stands in the doorway. A mess of emotion stirs inside him. Confusion. Worry. Annoyance. But there is a flutter of hope and warmth too. Yes, Dean is invading his privacy. Yes, it's wrong and, with anyone else, Sam would see it as a betrayal of trust.  
  
But this is Dean. He's curious enough about Sam to look through his things. Sam can't help but think it could be a good sign.

Dean flinches, a guilty look passing over his face before the mask of indifference goes back up. “Was bored.”

“You could of just asked. I would have let you look.”

“What do you want?”

Sam nervously fiddles with the amulet. "Wanna leave the bunker with me? We could go to a farmers market. Or get you new clothes.... whatever you want."

“You really plan on keeping me, huh?” Dean asks, staring at Sam.

Sam takes a deep, cleansing breath. " You aren't a pet to be owned. It's not like that. You're a person. I just wanna help you recover and learn how to be a person since you haven't had much of a chance. Part of that is owning things. Getting things that are your very own. Like clothes. Do you want any or not?"

“Yeah,” Dean rasps. He clears his throat and looks away. “Sure, why not.”

"Would you like to eat or shower first?"

“No. Let's get this over with.”

  
"It's not a root canal, you know," Sam teases gently. "It should be fun."  

 

* * *

 

 

They both linger with their coffees, sipping the bitter dregs.

“Ready to go in?”

Dean glares at the store and shrugs in reply.

_Better than nothing._

Dean follows close as they walk towards the store. Once inside, Dean elbows Sam. "Where do we go?"

“Depends on you. What do you wanna look at first?” Sam asks and wraps an arm around Dean's shoulders. He's preparing for Dean to shrug him off but Dean relaxes in Sam's hold.

“Jeans, I guess,” Dean says.

They make their way over and Dean holds up a pair of skinny jeans and wrinkles his nose. "What do I pick?”  

Sam rubs Dean's back. "Should we ask for help? I'm not great at this. My best piece of advice is to grab different sizes and see what fits."

Dean grabs a handful of things in different sizes and shades. Then Sam steers Dean in the direction of the shirts. Dean picks out flannel, plaid, and hoodies. It gives Sam pause because of how much they mimic Sam's own style. “You can have whatever you want, you know.”

After some deliberation, Dean picks out a few simple band tees and adds them onto the pile.

While standing in line for the fitting rooms Dean starts to squirm. He rocks back and forth on his feet, unable to stay still. The more people stare, the more agitated Dean seems to get.

“I'm right here,” Sam murmurs, running his fingers through Dean's hair.

Dean takes the room furthest away from the sales people when it's their turn.

“You gonna be okay in there?”

“Seriously?” Dean asks irritably. “I can dress myself.”

Sam sighs and sits in an uncomfortably small chair as Dean closes the door, ignoring the eyes on him and nosy whispers from customers and employees alike.

It's not long before the door opens again. “I don't know if this is right.”

“How does it feel?”

“Big.” Dean shoves his hands in the jean pockets. “Stiff.”

“The stiffness will change over time,” Sam promises. “Maybe-"

“Can I get you a smaller size?” a sales associate asks.

Dean jumps before freezing and staring at her. She stares right back. He doesn't speak and tension radiates off all three of them.

“We’re good for now. He has smaller sizes in his room. Right, Dean?”

Dean whines, managing a nod but not much else.

 _At least he's not attacking her_.

“Okay.” Her name tag says ‘Anna’. “Let me know if you need anything.”  Anna gives Sam a tight smile but doesn't offer Dean the same courtesy and backs off.

“Hey. Dean? Try to breathe,” Sam says, his whole being zeroing in on Dean.

Dean looks like he might break. His eyes are wide as he flails about, hands digging into his hair, sweat visible on his skin.

“Can I touch you?”

Dean nods and Sam gingerly moves into his space. “Breathe deep and slow,” Sam commands and lays a hand on Dean’s chest. “Stay with me. Focus on me and breathing, okay? Don't pay attention to anyone else.”

Dean meets Sam's eyes and soon his breathing levels out. “I feel a little better,” he says. He touches Sam's hand, the hand still on Dean's chest and starts biting his own lip. “So what's the catch here?”

“What do you mean?”

  
"Do I have to be good to have my own clothes? You gonna use them like a reward?” Dean pulls on the Led Zeppelin shirt he's wearing. It’s a bit too big but he'll fill into it.

"Dean," Sam says softly. "No. These are yours as long as you want them and there's no requirement attached.”

“Thanks, Sam,” Dean rasps after a long, awkward moment.

When Sam sees Anna out of the corner of his eye he grits his teeth and lets go of Dean. “I hate to rush you but if you don't go back into the changing room I think we're gonna get interrupted.”

Dean flinches, eyes finding Anna, and for a terrible moment Sam thinks he's going to spiral - but he doesn't. Dean takes a deep, cleansing breath and nods. “I'll hurry.”


	4. Chapter 4

  
"Hey, Dean. Wanna learn how to cook?" Sam asks as he starts setting up the kitchen.  
  
Lately, when Sam cooks, Dean sits on the counter and asks questions about different herbs and spices Sam uses. He watches intensely, like Sam’s in the middle of disarming a bomb. Now is no exception.

“Why? You cook just fine.”

  
"I do," Sam agrees. "But I'm offering anyway. You can't tell me you haven't been bored out of your mind. Can feel your restlessness, man. And I just wanna help."

Dean slides off the counter. “Okay. What do you need me to do?”

Sam hands Dean a recipe card. “Read this out loud for me? Unless you wanna make something else.”

Dean chews on his lip as he stares down at the card, a slight tremor in his hands. The silence grows in the room, escalating to uncomfortable levels because neither of them say anything. Dread builds in Sam's belly as he watches Dean shake his head and toss the card onto the counter with a growl. “This is stupid!”

"Hey," Sam murmurs, moving into Dean's space. He doesn’t touch Dean but he wants to remind him he’s there for comfort if Dean needs it. "Why is it stupid?"  

“It's…” Dean shakes his head and hugs himself. “I don't like cooking, okay?”

"That's not true. If it were, you wouldn't come in here and ask so many questions," Sam points out. "You didn't look upset until I handed you the card."

“I, I can't really read.”

"Oh shit," Sam says softly. He had had his suspicions but didn't want to be a dick and flat out assume. But now he feels like a dick anyway. "Okay. Well. You can still cook with me.”

"I guess,” Dean says. He shoves his hands in his jeans pockets and leans against the counter.  

“Don't look so excited,” Sam replies, keeping his tone as light and upbeat as he can.

“It's fucking embarrassing,” Dean grumbles.

Sam cringes. “I hate that I put you in a position that caused embarrassment. I'm really sorry, man.”

“Just tell me what I need to do.”

Sam picks up the card and skims it. “Butter goes in the big pot. We gotta cook the chicken.”

Dean adds a generous dollop of butter and places the chicken pieces in. "Got it.”

"Chopped onion and garlic.”

Dean chops the ingredients and dumps them in the pot without asking for help.

“Broth goes in when the chicken is cooked.” Sam hums happily, wrapping an arm around Dean for a side hug.

The whole process takes about an hour. Soon, they’re sitting down to eat. "This smells fucking delicious," Sam says.

“Yeah, it does.” Dean shoots Sam a smile.

_God. He looks good when he's happy._

“So? How does cooking feel?”

“I liked it. Hope it tastes good,” Dean replies.

"It will," Sam says with no hesitation. Then he takes a bite, letting out a soft noise despite his efforts to be quiet. "Yup. It's fucking great."

Dean watches Sam, grinning as he takes a bite of his own. He smile gets even bigger, eyes lighting up. “It is.”

Dean's grin makes Sam's heart flutter. He’s still getting used to Dean not constantly glaring and growling at him. " _You_ did that."

“Fuck yeah I did.”

They eat in comfortable silence. Afterwards though Sam takes a deep, cleansing breath. "So... I was thinking. I should start teaching you stuff. Not just how to cook."

Dean pushes his finished meal away, shaking his head. “Don't bother. I'm too fucking stupid.”

“No! You are _not_ stupid, Dean. Far from it,” Sam says more intensely than he'd meant to. “Most kids get to go to school as they grow up. You didn't get to. That's gonna make shit a hell of a lot more difficult for you. Please, Dean. Gimme a chance?

Dean rubs a hand over his face. “You're gonna regret it.”

“No, I won't.” Sam gets out of his seat and walks over to his brother, laying his hands on Dean's shoulders. Dean sighs and melts into Sam's touch.  

“When do we start?”

“Let's take it easy tonight. We can start on reading and writing in the morning.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Wanna watch a movie?”

“Okay.”

"Couch or bed?" Sam asks after he takes in the response on Dean's face.  

“Couch.”

Sam chews on his own lip, nodding. He leads the way to his DVD collection. "Pick whatever you want."  
Dean ends up picking Jurassic Park. "Nice choice. The music is very memorable," he murmurs as he turns the movie on and settles on the couch.

Dean sits down and presses against the arm of the couch. There’s as much space between them as there can possibly be. Sam raises an eyebrow at Dean then shrugs and focuses on the movie. He avoids pointing out inconsistencies or potential plot holes even though he itches to. He's seen Jurassic Park countless times so now certain parts stick out like a sore thumb - but he _also_ knows how irritating it can be when people talk during movies.

A quarter way in Dean starts to fidget. He wiggles his foot and leans just a little closer to Sam. Sam glances at Dean a few times then pauses the movie against his better judgement. "What's wrong? Are you bored? We can try something else."

Dean picks at his sock, creating a slightly larger hole. It’s one of Sam's old pairs. "I'm good. The movie’s fine."

"So what's with all the wiggling? You don't normally move this much," Sam points out.  
  
Dean sends Sam a look. "Just forget about it.”

Sam sighs softly. "Okay.”

After about fifteen more minutes, Dean’s fidgeting again and shifts even closer to Sam. This time, Sam doesn’t pause the movie. He lifts an arm so it’s up on the couch, making it clear Dean can move closer if he wants.

It takes Dean another five minutes of picking at his sock before he edges closer to Sam and leans against him. Sam lets out a soft, happy breath and wraps an arm around Dean's shoulders. "Better?"

 “Yeah,” Dean rasps.

"You like cuddles, huh?" Sam's fingers absently stroke Dean's shoulder and arm.

Dean sighs through his nose. "I guess so."

"Whenever you want them, I'm right here and willing," he murmurs, giving Dean’s shoulders a squeeze.

This isn’t something Sam does with just anyone. As a hunter, you learned to keep people at arms length and you learned it fast. But this is Dean. He'd dreamed of moments like this for most of his life. Even while missing, Dean had been an exception to the rule.   

 By the time the movie's over, Dean is asleep, head on Sam's shoulder. Sam strokes his fingers through Dean’s hair. "Guess it's bedtime."  

 Dean hums, an arm snaking around Sam's middle.

 “You gonna wake up for me?”

Dean wakes slowly, rubbing at his eyes. “The movie’s over?”

“Yeah,” Sam rasps.

Dean chews on his lip and looks away. “You should sleep in my room.”

Surprise washes over Sam but he does his best not to show it. This is the first time Dean has offered such a thing. Sure, they'd shared a bed before, but Dean's choices had been chains or Sam's bed. Of course he’d picked Sam's bed.  
  
Dean has no reason for them to share a bed this time.  
  
"All night?"

“Yeah.”

“Hey. Look at me.” It takes a moment for Dean to look Sam in the eyes. “What is it that you're looking for? Physical contact?”

“I just…” Dean frowns. “Yeah. I wanna be close to someone.”

_And I'm the only one here._

Sam nods even as his chest is heavy with guilt. “I'd be happy to sleep in bed with you.”

  
"Okay, well let's not make a big deal out of it,” Dean huffs.

  
Sam stretches his hands above his head before standing up. "I'm not,” he lies.

_I need to stop being so fucking selfish and introduce Dean to more people. Can't keep him to myself._

Sam gets ready in his own room before heading to Dean's, wearing sweats and nothing else. He knocks on Dean's door and calls out, "you decent?"  

“Yeah!”

Sam opens the door, zeroing in on Dean. Dean's wearing boxers and a soft t-shirt. "This okay? Or do you want me to put a shirt on?"

“I don't care,” Dean says with a shrug.

“Okay.”

“Get comfortable and I'll get in bed after,” Dean says, hugging himself.

Sam watches Dean quietly a few moments before he moves for the bed and crawls onto it. "Ready.”

The bed dips and then Dean’s back presses against Sam. Sam rolls over so Dean’s the little spoon, which causes Dean to purr and wiggle even closer to Sam so there's no space between them at all. Sam wraps an arm around Dean, a hand settling on Dean's belly. Sam kisses the top of Dean's head before falling asleep, far more relaxed than he should be given his crotch is snug against his brother.

 

* * *

 

 

  
The next morning, when Sam wakes up, he’s tangled up in Dean. Unfortunately, he's also hard. It's a morning wood thing, it's not like he’d been dreaming about Dean - but he knows he needs to fix it because this can’t become a habit. Waking up so _close_ can’t be normalized and treated like it's okay.

He wiggles, trying to extricate himself from Dean but doesn't succeed.

Dean’s slowly waking up, his head pillowed on Sam's chest. "Mmm," he groans. He shifts and rubs at his eyes.

Sam swallows thickly, keeping his hands to himself. "How'd you sleep?"

  
"Really fucking good,” Dean says and lays back down on Sam's chest.

Sam bites his lip and runs his fingers through Dean's hair. "Can't go back to sleep, man. We got stuff to do today."

"Yeah that stuff includes learning shit,” Dean grumbles.

Sam strokes a hand down Dean's arm. "But you get to do it with me. That makes it less bad, right?"

  
Dean sighs and sits up to stretch. "Sure."

Sam guiltily watches Dean stretch. Dean's ass is on full display - his boxers must have slid down while they were both sleeping - for Sam before he tugs them up.

  _Damn, Dean has a nice ass._

Sam's breath hitches and he looks away. "One of us should shower and the other one should make breakfast."

"Can you make breakfast?"

"Yeah." Sam sits up and tries to discreetly hide his hard on. He knows without a doubt he'll be jacking off as soon as he's alone. Maybe in bed, maybe in the kitchen... But Sam _has_ to get off.

"Thanks." Dean heads to the dresser and drops his boxers. "I'll meet you there, yeah?"

"Yeah," Sam squeaks, hiding his cock as he gets out of bed and makes a beeline for the door in nothing but sweats and the amulet. "See you soon."  
  
And, with that, Sam goes to the kitchen, sits down on a chair, and pulls out his cock. He strokes slow at first. Teasing. He tries to think about women. Men. Nameless faces. But soon his brain shifts to people he knows.  
  
"Dean," he pants, jacking himself faster. A surge of guilt stabs him in the stomach. What kind of person does this? Touches themselves while thinking about a traumatized sibling?  
  
God, Sam is so fucked in the head.

 Sam comes quick and almost as soon as he tucks his cock back in his pants, Dean walks in. “Oh! Wasn't expecting you to be finished so soon. Good shower?”

“Yeah.” Dean licks his lips and looks around the kitchen. "It smells like sex in here."

_Careful, Sam -_

“It's just me.”

  _Oh, god. You blew it. How could you think that'd be a good answer?_

"Yeah? What were you thinking about?" Dean asks, smirking.

Sam's breath hitches and he shakes his head. "You don't wanna know."

"Yeah,” Dean says, getting into Sam's space. "I do.”

"This is so inappropriate," Sam pants, looking down at the table and squirms in his seat.

 “How big is your dick, Sam? Was the person you were thinking about choking on it?” Dean purrs, staying put.

 Sam lets out a soft moan. “We shouldn't be talking about this. I gotta… I gotta go shower.”

Dean flicks his tongue out between his teeth. “So you want me to make breakfast, is that it?”

“Please,” Sam says with difficulty. “You gotta back up though.”

“Hmm. I think you're running,” Dean decides, like it's a fucking _fact_.

Sam stumbles to his feet. “I won't be long.”

 

* * *

 

 

  
If Sam’s being honest, he lingers in the shower longer than he needs to. It's hard to face Dean after what he's done, after being caught. Sure, Dean doesn't know Dean is the one Sam was thinking about, but it's bad enough Dean knows Sam had jerked off at all.    
  
Finally, he exits the shower, taking great care to get fully dressed. Dean’s wandering eyes are dangerous in ways he can't explain.  
  
"Breakfast ready?" he asks when he reaches the kitchen.

"Yeah.” Dean places sausage, toast, and scrambled eggs on Sam's plate. "Thought I'd use the sausage in honor of you jacking yours off."

"You're not gonna let this go, are you?"  

"Nope," Dean happily replies. He sits Sam's plate on the kitchen table then sits down with his own plate.

"Why not? A lot of people jerk off, dude." He plops down in his chair and takes a bite of sausage, eyes on Dean.

"Yeah but you were like... just putting it away when I walked in." Dean winks and takes a bite of sausage in the most explicit fashion Sam has ever seen.

“Wait! You didn't see anything, did you?”

"I didn't.”

Sam stabs at his eggs and swallows a huge mouthful. "That's for the best, dude.”

"Hmm." Dean scoops some eggs onto his toast and takes a bite. "Why's that?"

“Wow.” Sam shakes his head. “It's too early for this.”

Dean snorts and slowly slides another sausage into his mouth while staring at Sam.

Sam rubs at the back of his neck. "Dude. Can't you eat that thing normally?" he asks, voice cracking.

Dean takes a huge mouthful of egg and toast and the last of his sausage. “Think you're makin’ a big deal out of nothing.”  

Sam stares at Dean's mouth a moment before clearing his throat and stuffing his face with more eggs. "So, for the baseline assessment, I wanna see you write the alphabet.”

"I thought we already knew I can't fucking read,” Dean gripes.

Sam reaches across the table and strokes Dean's hand. "We'll start slow. We'll go at your pace. Okay? Just gimme a chance."

Dean glowers at his plate then gets up and puts it in the sink. "Fine. Let's get this over with.”

"I'll grab the materials we need. Be right back."

Soon enough, Sam returns with sheets of blank paper and a printed off kindergarten sight word worksheet.  
  
"Okay! Write out the alphabet. I found a couple worksheets for us to do too.”

Dean arches a brow then starts writing the alphabet, each letter messy and stilted. He stops a time or two to sing the alphabet song to himself but, eventually, finishes it.

"Can I see?" Sam asks gently when he's sure Dean's done.

“Yeah,” Dean says, sliding it over with a smirk. “Have at it.”

Sam smiles wide when he reads over Dean's work. "Look at that. See! You did awesome. How does it feel?"

“It feels fine.” The look on Dean's face tells a different story. He's eating up the praise.

“Good. Ready to look at the worksheet?”

“Okay.” Dean's voice is brighter than Sam's anticipating.

"There's ten lists on this worksheet. Ten in each row," Sam explains as he hands it over to Dean. "I want you to circle the words you know. There's a hundred words altogether. This is another tool that will be helpful in determining where you're at. If you know all the words, we'll move to the next worksheet. If you don't, we'll start with the words you don't know and go from there. Okay?"

Dean takes the paper and wiggles the pen between his fingers as he looks over the page. He starts to circle some of them. Some of them were easy and instantly circled but after awhile it takes him longer to get through each word. He rubs a hand over his face then shoves the paper at Sam, a handful left uncircled.

Sam leans over to kiss Dean's head. "You're doing so fucking good. Okay. I'm only going to tell you a couple of the ones you missed. I want you to copy each one of them on paper ten times each. So we'll start with three words. You okay with that?"  

“Fine,” Dean says, glaring at Sam. “Which ones?”

“Could, because, and purple,” Sam replies, pointing at each word. “You might wanna consider I'm trying to _help_ you. The glaring is making me a little uncomfortable.”

Dean sighs and copies down each word ten times before pushing the paper back to Sam. “Making me do this is just proving how fucking stupid I am.”

"Bullshit," Sam says, shaking his head. "Just cause you haven't had the chance to go to school doesn't mean you're stupid. You're learning more all the damn time. Not only that, you seem hungry to learn. So, fuck that. You're far from stupid."

“Gimme more words to copy,” Dean says, some of the irritation leaving his eyes.

“First, jump, and love,” Sam rasps, watching Dean closely. “You're so awesome.”

“How awesome?” Dean asks as he starts copying the words.

"Awesome enough I can't wait to spend more time with you even though we see each other every day.”

Dean's breath hitches. "Thats, uh..." He pauses to write another ‘jump’. "Yeah, me too."

Sam grins at him. "We should do something fun after this. Go to the library or the movies or whatever."

Dean wrinkles his nose. "The movies. Library seems boring.”   

"Even if I read to you?" Sam asks, trying not to frown. "Figured I could do that a bit with you every day on top of working on your own reading skills. Read you shit you'd actually like."

Dean rolls his eyes. "Alright, I'll bite. You can read to me.”  

Sam beams at Dean. "Harry Potter might be a good place to start. Just to get a feel for your likes and dislikes."  

"Isn't that about some loser wizard kid?"

“I wouldn't call him a loser but yeah."

  
"What _would_ you call him?" Dean finishes copying all the words he missed then hands the paper back to Sam.

"I'd call him a brave kid who makes a good life for himself in the end," Sam says with a fond smile as he looks over the paper. "You might connect with him more than you think you will, Dean."  

 “I guess I'll give him a shot.”

"Your writing is looking solid. I think this is a great place to take a break.”

“Cool.” Dean stands up, stretching his arms above his head.

“I'll turn you into a Potterhead,” Sam teases. “Just you wait.”

* * *

 

 

“Wanna sit next to me or across from me?”

“Across from you is fine.”

"Awesome." Sam sits down and beams at Dean. "Jimmy should be here any minute. He's never been the best about showing up on time but he promised to try."

Dean glowers. "I don't know why I gotta meet anyone.”

Sam reaches out across the table to take Dean's hand. "Because socializing with people other than me will be good for you. I can't be the only one you bond with. It's not fair to you."

“Master used to say that too. Didn't like it then either.”

"Really?" That isn't something Sam had expected to hear about the Alpha. He wants to ask more questions, learn about Dean’s horrible past, but he doesn't want to risk triggering Dean. Sam can't recall the last time Dean had mentioned the deceased Alpha and all previous times had ended messy.

 “Hey, Sam,” Jimmy says softly.

"Jimmy!" Sam lets out a happy noise and slides out of his seat so he can squeeze him tight. He breathes in Jimmy's scent, hesitant to let go. "How have you been, dude?"

Jimmy holds Sam just as tight. "I've missed you Sam,” he breathes. "I mean I know you've had your hands full but...yeah.”

"I have," Sam rasps, patting Jimmy's cheek when he finally lets him go. "Sit next to me."

"Hello, Dean,” Jimmy says with a big smile as he obeys Sam, sitting down.  
  
Dean doesn’t speak. He doesn't even nod, just stares at Jimmy, frowning.

Sam pushes his thigh flush against Jimmy's and reaches across the table to stroke Dean's arm. "Come on, man. Say hello back."

Dean looks down at Sam's touch before flicking his gaze in Jimmy's direction. “Hey.”  
  
"Thanks for coming to meet me today."  
  
Dean shrugs.

Sam keeps his hand on his brother and melts into Jimmy's side. "Dean's come so far. I'm proud of him."  

Dean's eyes trace where Sam and Jimmy are glued together.  
  
"Thats awesome!" Jimmy replies. He places an arm along the back of the booth.  
  
Dean says nothing.

Dean's eyes are on him, on him and Jimmy, has Sam's pulse picking up. Sure, Dean tends to watch him. But not quite this much. Sam clears his throat. "Yeah. We've been cooking together and I've been taking him with me to farmers markets. All sorts of stuff."

"Yeah, real buddy buddy shit,” Dean says.  
  
"Sam and his farmers markets,” Jimmy says fondly. "He must buy a _lot_ of produce." He directs the statement to Dean who resolutely ignores him.

Sam frowns and curls his fingers around Dean's. "Jimmy's trying to talk to you."

Dean meets Sam's eyes and lets out a long suffering sigh. "Yeah. He's always tryin’ to feed me plants and shit."  
  
Jimmy continues as if Dean's shitty behavior doesn't bother him, god bless him.  "What do you prefer to eat?"  
  
Dean shrugs.  
  
"Hello, boys!" their waitress says. Dean flinches. "Can I get you a round of drinks?"  
  
"Beer,” Dean replies.

_Bet he's counting the minutes until this is over._

“Chocolate peanut butter milkshake, please.”

Jimmy grins and nudges Sam. "You must be in a good mood. You're splurging."  
  
Sam flushes. “Yeah. I’m in a really good mood actually."  
  
"What about you, handsome?" the waitress asks Jimmy sweetly.

Jimmy looks up and smiles at the waitress. "Coke is fine, thank you."  
  
“All right." With that, she’s off to get the  drinks.  
  
Dean leans back in his seat but remains tense, not letting go of Sam's hand. Sam squeezes Jimmy's thigh gently, happy Jimmy is being so calm and polite. He treads carefully and with more ease than Sam had upon first meeting Dean, that's for damn sure.

"How's Claire doing?" Sam finally asks.    
  
"Her grades aren't where they could be. She’s more interested in learning about monsters. She could do so well academically if she just applied herself but she's doing fine otherwise." Jimmy’s hand lands on Sam's shoulder.

"If her interest continues when she turns eighteen, Jody would enjoy showing her the ropes. I mean, hunting isn't something I'd recommend to anyone... but. Well, you know. Claire's strong and stubborn and I'd rather she learn from the best.”

Jimmy sighs and nuzzles Sam's temple. "I really hope she changes her mind.”  
  
"You two gonna make out? Should I fucking _leave_?”

Sam's breath hitches and his attention snaps back to Dean. He brings Dean’s hand up to his mouth and brushes his lips against his knuckles, trying to soothe the murder in Dean's eyes. "No. We're not gonna make out. Please don't go."

They're rescued by the server. “Here are your drinks,” she says cheerfully.

"Thanks," Sam says, offering her a smile. "I think I'm gonna have a spicy chicken salad. What about you, Dean? I bet you want a burger. Extra cheese and bacon?"

"Yup." Dean actually cracks a small smile. Sam has to refrain from commenting on how nice it looks.  
  
"I'll have the fish and chips,” Jimmy orders.

Sam elbows Jimmy's side. "You gonna steal sips of my milkshake like you usually do?"  
  
“Nope,” Jimmy replies with a grin that says the exact opposite.

"You can have some too, Dean. The sizes are fucking huge here."  

“Okay.” Dean doesn't sound remotely excited.

"We can even share straws if you aren't afraid of germs," Sam says, giving Dean a big grin.

“All right, Sam,” Dean rasps.

Sam keeps his eyes on his brother. "You're gonna love it."

Jimmy's arm squeezes Sam tighter and he kisses Sam's temple.  
  
Dean _growls_.

Sam shivers, his dick reacting to the noises coming from Dean. That... that really doesn't seem normal. His mouth parts as he watches his brother, completely dumbfounded.

“Dean, are you alright?" Jimmy asks.  
  
Dean bares his teeth, damn near vampire-like. "Peachy."

A soft, embarrassing noise leaves Sam's mouth. Dean looks really hot when he’s pissed off and it makes Sam feel horrible that he’s kinda into it. "You sure?" he rasps, inwardly cringing at the obvious arousal in his voice.

Dean sends Jimmy a look of pure hatred. "Yup."  
  
The waitress returns with their food. "Here you go,” she says and puts their plates in front of them.  

  
"Thanks." Sam goes for his milkshake first because he knows as soon as he leaves it unattended Jimmy will be all over it.

"Enjoy,” she replies and walks away.  
  
Dean takes a big bite of his burger, eating it like he always ate, as if someone’s going to take the food away from him.  
  
Sam takes a gulp of his milkshake and hands it to Jimmy. He lightly touches his arm, trying to silently tell Jimmy 'later.' He _knows_ his friend has questions but now isn’t the time to get into them. "How's the burger?"  

Dean shrugs. " It's not as good as yours are,” he says flatly.

Sam frowns and nibbles on his salad. "I'm not _that_ good of a cook. Don’t know what you're talking about."  

Dean goes after some fries, shrugging.  
  
"I'd take the compliment,” Jimmy says, friendliness in his tone.

 "You're right." Then he beams at his brother. "Thanks, Dean."

"The fries are good here though, aren't they?" Jimmy asks Dean.  
  
"They're fine.”

"Oh! I want one," Sam says and licks his lips.

Jimmy smirks and picks up two fries, holding them up to Sam's mouth.

Sam’s lips brush against Jimmy's fingers accidentally as he bites into the fries. Then he faces his brother again, moaning a little as he chews. "God, they're so good."

Dean slams his hand down on the table, causing the cutlery to clink. "Are you _fucking_ kidding me?"

Sam frowns at Dean hard. "Hey, Jimmy. Can you let me up?"

“Should I leave a moment?” Jimmy asks as he gets up.

"No." Sam pats Jimmy's cheek. "Sit down."  
  
Then, in seconds, he’s on Dean's side of the booth and sits back down, pressing flush against his brother. He’s so close Dean’s familiar scent washes over him. "What's up with you?"

"I think you should sit here,” Dean rasps.

Sam's breath catches. Dean's raspy voice is... something. "I'd like that."

"Yeah?" Dean asks. "You were really fucking friendly with blue eyes over there." Dean sends Jimmy a glare, who's already moving Sam's food over to the other side of the table for him.

Sam nuzzles Deans jawline. "What's wrong with that? How I am with Jimmy has nothing to do with you. I'm a tactile guy. Like touching people I care about. Doesn't make you any less important to me."

 Dean huffs a sigh and stills Sam's movements with fingers on his jaw so he can copy Sam's actions, nosing at Sam's jawline. But then he dips lower, lips caressing Sam’s neck. His throat.

“Guess I'm gonna have to steal _your_ fries now.”

 They stay inappropriately close for the rest of the meal, Dean periodically feeding Sam his fries and Sam sharing his milkshake with Dean and Jimmy. He chooses to ignore Jimmy's questioning gaze and focuses instead on how fucking _good_ Dean feels and how nice it is to see him smile.

 

* * *

 

 

The first night after meeting Jimmy, Dean hides in his room and doesn't come out, not even to read together before bed. Silence weighs heavily in the bunker, a painful reminder of Dean's absence. The next day is much the same. Sam gives Dean space. He's not sure what else _to_ do. At least Dean isn't yelling and tearing apart his room. They just aren't talking.

 When Dean finally _does_ come around Sam, he stares at him, eyes heated and dark. He touches Sam, not just on the couch or before bed. Not just when he's anxious. It's nearly constant.

 Sam lets him. Because it's Dean. He _should_ have affection. He _should_ be able to touch Sam. But then it changes. Dean’s hands wander. They brush against Sam's ass. Barely there. Teasing.

 “What are you doing?” Sam says, the words little more than a moan.

 “Shower with me.”

 “Is that really a good idea?” Sam breathes out but his stupid dick is already reacting to Dean's words.

 Dean arches an eyebrow. “Why wouldn't it be?”

 Sam licks his own lips. “It just seems a little… I don't know. Weird.”

“Sam.” Dean rubs a thumb along Sam's lips. “Do you want to? Because _I_ want to. You keep saying I should speak up when I want somethin’. Well, I'm doin’ it, okay?”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Sam hisses out, insides shaky. His tongue darts out, caressing Dean’s thumb that won't leave his lips. “I want to.”

Dean groans, soft and low and it _does_ things to Sam. Inappropriate things. “Come on then.”

Sam leads the way to the bathroom, pulling off his clothes when it comes into sight. He knows if he doesn't start _before_ they enter, he'll lose his nerve. Maybe that's a good thing, though. “Can _feel_ your eyes on my ass, you know.”

 “So? It's a nice ass. And _right_ there. Where else am I supposed to look, hmm?”

 “Guess you've got a point.”

 “Damn right, I do.”

 Once both of them are naked and in the bathroom, Sam turns the shower on, testing the temperature before looking at Dean over his shoulder. A mix of feelings churn in Sam's chest. "Wanna be in front of me or behind me?"  

Dean responds by moving into the shower, making himself at home beneath the water with a satisfied sigh.

Sam follows Dean into the shower, watching him awkwardly. They're dangerously close to the edge of an important boundary. This isn't the first time he'd seen Dean naked. But he'd never been _this_ turned on, not that he can remember. And, from one glance at Dean’s dick, it’s clear Sam's not alone in his fucked up thoughts. If anything, Dean’s broadcasting what he wants even _louder._

“I want you to sleep in my bed tonight,” Dean says, turning around to face Sam. He runs his fingers along Sam’s chest, tracing his scars.

 Sam's breath catches, warmth flooding him. He likes Dean's attention, especially when it involves touching and words that aren't angry and biting.  
  
"Any particular reason?" he asks, moving into Dean's fingers despite his reservations. "I mean... don't think I don't want to. I do. But I'm worried about what I'll want if we're close. Things are a bit intense right now.”

 Understatement. Desire is radiating from them both. They've shared a bed plenty of times now but never like _this._ If they do, Sam can't picture it staying G-rated, fun for the whole family.

 “They are.” Dean tilts his head and licks Sam's scars. “You shouldn't be worried, though.”  

Sam hisses and steps closer to Dean. “I don't wanna take advantage of you. And I'm... I'm your brother.”

Dean scoffs, his mouth traveling up to Sam’s throat. He licks over Sam's pulse. "We weren't raised together. Not really brothers."  

 Sam groans, tilting his head back for Dean. For that tempting fucking _mouth_ . “ _You_ don't see us that way, you mean. _I_ do. And even if we take that part out of it… feels like your interest is new. Do you think I _expect_ this from you? Because of the clothes? Because you live here with me? Do you think you owe me? I didn't take care of you to get sex, I swear.”

“Oh my god, shut _up_ ,” Dean growls, scraping his teeth along Sam’s throat. It's a warning - or maybe a promise. “You're making _a lot_ of assumptions. I don't think I owe you. I'm capable of coming up with my own thoughts, _Sam_.”

 “I _know_ you’re capable of _plenty_ of shit, Dean. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again - you’re _smart.”_ His hands fall to Dean's hips, squeezing gently. “I just wanna be careful. I mean, the timing is really weird.”

 “You're killing the mood,” Dean says, pushing Sam so he can have his turn beneath the water. “Just fucking _say_ you don't want me. Clearly, I read shit wrong and you want Jimmy after all. Bet you ride _his_ dick all the time.”

Sam gapes at Dean as the water beats down on him. He makes no moves to clean himself. “He's my _friend_ , Dean.”

“You’ve never fucked?”

 _“No._ Not that it’s _any_ of your business.”

“Good. I already wanted to punch the guy. Hearing that you’re together would be way too much.” Dean licks his lips, eyes flicking along Sam’s frame until it lands on his cock. His cock that's still hard. “Still happy to see me?”

“Yeah.” Sam rubs at the back of his neck. “How could I _not_ be? God, Dean.”

Dean's hands are _on_ him instantly. They dance along his ribcage, stomach, and hips, before hovering above his straining cock. “Could make you happier.”  

"Yeah, I know. But I dunno if you _should_. You've been stuck with me against your will for months and had to interact with me when you hated my guts. Who else is around for you to want? No one. How do we know what you're experiencing is even real?”

 “You don't listen,” Dean says, turning his head to glare at the wall. “I wanna be close to you. Did it start out as hate? You're damn right, it did. Did it start with me wanting you cause there's no one else I see on a regular basis? Maybe. But it's _more_ than that. I've never…” Dean lets out a shaky breath. “You're the first person I've gotten hard thinking about. That I _dream_ about. I wanna figure out what it means.”

 Sam's breath hitches and he moves in to kiss Dean's temple. His walls are crumbling. He's melting. “If we do this, I want you inside me. Can you handle that?”

 “Hell yeah.” Dean pulls Sam into a sloppy kiss. “Now.”

"You sure?" Sam breathes against Dean's mouth. "Could just warm your dick between my cheeks, right against my hole instead. All night. Or make me suck you off until I fall asleep."

Dean growls and takes hold of Sam's cock. "Now. I want _all_ of you now," he demands against Sam's mouth.

"Yes, Dean," Sam gasps, dick jerking in Dean's hold. He trembles as he turns the shower off.

Dean takes Sam's hand and steps from the shower. He doesn’t bother drying off before dragging Sam to Sam's room. Sam grips Dean tight, anxiety and excitement at war inside him. So many what ifs.

 “You'll have to tell me what to do,” Dean says once they reach the bedroom.

Sam leans in to kiss Dean hard, hands burying in his hair before he leans back slightly to watch him. "We need lube. It's in my nightstand. That'll ease the way as you open me up slowly, one finger at a time, until I can take your dick. Then you'll slick yourself up with more lube and fuck me.”

“Get on the bed, Sammy,” Dean says as he grabs the lube.

  _Sammy._ How long has Dean been calling him that? Is this the first time? He's not so sure and he can't say he _loves_ the nickname. Sammy sounds more like a prepubescent child than an adult - but he doesn't argue. Dean can call him whatever he damn well pleases as far as Sam's concerned as long as there's no hate in his tone.

Sam spreads his legs wide when he gets on the bed and Dean licks his lips as he stares at Sam's hole.

“You're being a perv again,” Sam teases, wiggling.

“Shut up, bitch,” Dean says without heat and crawls up between Sam's thighs. He pours lube directly on Sam's waiting hole then presses a single finger inside him.

"Jerk," Sam moans and spreads his legs wider, hole clenching on Dean’s finger. "Finger fuck me slowly. Work me open until I loosen up before giving me another finger. If you slip in another before I'm ready, it won't feel great." He bites his own lips. "Plus, if you take your time, I'll come before you even get your dick in me. You might like that.”

"I don't want you to come until I'm inside you,” Dean’s quick to reply, fucking his finger inside Sam slowly.

"Why do I gotta wait? Can't really control it.” Sam meets Dean’s tiny thrusts, fucking himself on Dean's finger.

Dean strokes a hand over Sam's inner thigh. "Fair enough. Do you want another?”

"Yeah." Sam reaches down to spread his cheeks, putting his hole even more on display. "Don't I look like I need another finger?" he purrs, squeezing his hole again. "Pay attention to the way I feel and how easy it is to finger fuck me. Pay attention to the noises I make. Those will clue you in to how you're doing."  

 Dean swallows hard and obeys. Sam trembles as he slowly adjusts to the added finger, letting out a soft whine as he stares at Dean. "How do I feel?"

"Tight,” Dean rasps. " _Hot_ and wet.” He stretches his fingers, pressing deeper.

 “More. Gimme another,” Sam demands, lifting off the bed.

“What do _I_ feel like?” Dean asks as he obeys.

"Full. Making me feel so full. Painful but not in a bad way."

"I can't wait to get my dick in you,” Dean breathes.

"Me too." Sam's cock jerks happily at Dean's words and he grips the base to try and hold off his oncoming orgasm. "No condom, right? It's... unexplainable. Skin on skin contact. Being inside someone. The way it can make you feel…” he shakes his head. "It can be powerful."

“I'll take your word for it,” Dean says, eyes falling to Sam's hole. “Almost ready?”

"Yeah," Sam says. He’s so hard it hurts and it’s a miracle he hasn't blown his load already. "I'm ready. What position do you want me in? Hands and knees? Just like this?”

  
“You’re perfect the way you are.” Dean leans over Sam for a kiss as he takes his own cock in his hand. He shifts back down Sam's body and pushes his cock against Sam's hole. “Just like this.”

  
"Do it," Sam says, desperation seeping into his voice as he wraps his legs around Dean's waist, urging him forward. "Get in me."

  
"Fuck," Dean moans and pushes inside Sam. He doesn't stop until he’s fully sheathed, balls hitting Sam's ass. “Sam. _Sammy_.”  

“God. Don't thrust yet,” Sam gasps, hole clinging to Dean's big fucking dick.

Dean bends down and gives Sam a needy kiss, his hips jerking a few seconds before he stills.

Sam whimpers into Dean’s mouth, unsure what to do with his hands. They scratch along Dean's back but can’t seem to settle anywhere until they land on Dean’s hips. "Wanna leave marks on me? Bite me? You can."  

Dean latches onto Sam's neck and sucks a mark there. With a thin whine, Dean shifts his hips a little.

"Mmm, you moved," Sam moans, nearly mindless with lust as he shakes beneath Dean. "Can't help it, huh? Feeling my hole snug around you is too good to resist. Wanna fuck me all sloppy, huh? Get a couple loads in me so I'm wet and full with your come. Make me beg for you?"

Dean blushes, cock twitching in Sam's ass. " Jesus _fuck_ , Sam." He rolls his hips gently.  "You’re hugging me so tight, Sam. Wanna fuck you so hard you can't walk for days."

"You don't have to," Sam breathes, meeting Dean's thrusts just as gently. "I think I love being slow fucked. Means I get to have you inside me longer and I gotta admit... I'm greedy for you."  
  
He isn't used to sex this sweet. Isn't used to taking or being taken with such care. His preference was quickies or very kinky sex. Although he supposes getting fucked by your big brother counts as kinky in some circles.

Dean's thrusts again, a slow grinding roll of his hips that had Sam burning from the inside out in the _best_ way. "Okay. Cause I like this too."  He gasps in pleasure. "Greedy for me, huh?”

"Yeah." Sam licks along Dean's throat before finding his ear and breathes into it. His movements stay slow and lazy because he'd meant every word. "Greedy for my big brother's cock.”

"You're filthy,” Dean says and rolls his hips harder. Faster. Uncoordinated and inexperienced, sure, but still hits Sam's insides _just_ right. "I love it." He turns his head and nuzzles along Sam's jawline, nipping him. "I'll fuck you whenever you want. Fuck you all night."

 “All night? I'd like to see that.” Sam bares his throat for Dean. “Yeah, I'm filthy. So it's good you're okay with it cause I don't think I can change. You should bite me again.”

 Dean's hips slow a little and he stares at Sam's throat. “I don't know if I should keep marking you… not unless your dick and ass are mine now.”

 “Hmm.” Sam leans up to nip at Dean’s lips. “Little possessive?”

 “Try a lot.” Dean rubs Sam's hair between his fingers and _tugs_ as he increases the pace again.

“Cute,” Sam gasps, clenching on Dean’s dick.

“I am _not_ cute,” Dean says with difficulty, each word getting its own unskilled thrust.

The only reason Sam hadn't come yet was because of the lazy pace but now that Dean’s speeding up, he's right on the edge, unable to keep the moans to himself.

“I think I might be a little possessive too,” Sam finally admits. He's not happy about it. He doesn't have a _right_ to be - but he is. “God, Dean. How do you want me to come? Want me to come untouched on your huge cock? Want me to beg? Because I'm really damn close.”

“I'm getting close, too,” Dean replies. “Untouched. Come untouched while begging.”

“Dean, please,” Sam whimpers, blunt nails digging into Dean's back. “Lemme come. Let me make a mess. I'll do whatever you want, say whatever you want, fuck in whatever position you want… just let me _come._ Need it. Don't you wanna feel how tight my hole is gonna get when I let go, crying out your name? It'll feel amazing. You're gonna love how my hole milks your fat dick. Please. Please, please, _please_.”

“Do it. Come for me, Sammy. God, you talk like a _slut._ I like it.”

“ _Dean,”_ Sam moans, making a mess on them both. His hole rhythmically clenches on Dean’s cock. “Let me feel you. Make me sloppy and mark me on the inside, too.”

Dean thrusts twice more into Sam and his dick _throbs_ , filling him with come. Dean lays his forehead on Sam's chest, gasping. “You feel so good.”

“Good. That's how it _should_ be,” Sam murmurs, running his hands up and down Dean's back.

Dean runs his nose along a random, ugly scar that's faded with age. He makes no move to break their connection. Doesn't pull out and roll away. “I'm sorry.”

Sam frowns, finding Dean's chin and tilting his head up so Sam can look deep into Dean's eyes. “What for?”  

“Being so cruel about your scars,” Dean says with a wince. “I shouldn't have. I fucking… I’ve regretted my words for so long -"

“Hey.” Sam strokes Dean’s chin, his chest warm and light. “I forgive you. Okay? Water under the bridge. We're fine.”

“Fuck, Sam.” Dean crashes their mouths together. “What did I do to deserve you?”

Sam's stomach twists and he shakes his head. “Not that great, man. Ah… not to ruin the moment. But we should clean up. Come doesn't feel great when it dries.”

They take another shower - a _real_ shower, long enough to wash each other - and tuck themselves into Dean's bed. Sam's eyelids are heavy with sleep and he yawns, snuggling close to Dean in the dark.

“Sammy,” Dean sighs softly after a while, so quiet Sam's unsure if Dean even said anything. “Sam. I love you. I. I'm _in_ love with you. I don't know how it happened but I _really_ think it did.”

Sam's frozen. He says nothing. He pretends he's asleep already because _oh god_ \- how does he even respond to this? It's the cowards way out, he _knows_ it is, but words fail him when he needs them most.

He fucked up. He fucked up _big time._

_I'm sorry, Dean. I'm so sorry._


	5. Chapter 5

  
When Sam knows for certain that Dean’s asleep, he slips out of bed and leaves the room. For an hour or so, all he does is pace and cry, but eventually he begins to pack, dread settling low in the pit of his stomach. Leaving is going to be the hardest thing he's ever done - but he has to sort shit out and he can't do it here. He waits until sunrise before texting Bobby, Jody, and Jimmy, letting them know his game plan if they were up for it.

Jody answers first. She easily agrees to coming back to the bunker to look after Dean. The ultimate hope is that Jody can take Dean to Bobby. He'd have access to more social interaction there and Sam can easily envision Dean working on cars, and learning lore or magic.

A few hours later, while Sam's making another pot of coffee, Dean winds his arms around Sam's waist from behind and presses him against the kitchen counter.

"What ya makin’?" Dean asks sleepily.  

“Just coffee right now.” Bile rises in his throat. Dean’s so unaware and sweet. For him, this might be one of the best moments of his life. And Sam was going to fuck it all up. Again. “But I'll cook whatever you want. Figure bacon should be on the list though.”

Dean hums, grinding against Sam's ass. “You figured right.”

Sam extricates himself from Dean's hold, even though his body is _so_ on board for another round with Dean and pours them both a cup of coffee. “Plan on helping or are you gonna keep trying to be an octopus?”

“Hmm.” Dean hops up on the counter and takes his coffee from Sam's fingers. “I think you know the answer to that.”

Sam's pulse jumps as he tries to gather his thoughts. “So… how are you feeling?”

“Pretty fucking good. You?” Dean asks, his eyes soft and full of _love_. Now that Dean’s said it Sam can't see anything else.

“I heard you last night.”

Dean frowns, putting down his coffee so his hands are free. “Why didn't you say anything?”

“I don't know.” Sam began to walk in circles around the kitchen, agitated. “I wanted to but I froze.”

“You realize I wasn't expecting you to say it back, right?” Dean demands, running fingers through his own hair. “I just had to get the words out, Sam.”

“How do you know this is even real? It's not like you've had much experience in this area. And that's probably my fault, too. Shouldn't have kept you all to myself.”

Dean glares at Sam and slides off the counter. "I got to know you, okay? I found out that you are a great person. You genuinely care about people. You _save_ people.”

"No. I think you were right the first time. I'm a piss poor excuse for a hunter. For a _brother_. You're better off without me," Sam says softly.

Dean shakes his head. “Where the fuck is this coming from? How can you think that you’re a shit brother when you spent all that time trying to find me?"

"It's not finding you that was wrong - it was after," Sam whispers miserably. "You spent too much time around _just_ me. Maybe if I'd brought people around more frequently you wouldn't have gotten this attached to me."  

“So?” Dean's voice cracks and his arms move wildly. He looks about ready to fight or flee. “Are you breaking up with me before we've even had a chance?”

Sam shrugs helplessly. “I don't know, Dean. We need time apart though so I can figure it out. So _both_ of us can figure out where to go from here.”

“What?” Dean enters Sam's space and pushes on his chest. “Are you fucking serious? You're _leaving_ me?”

“Don’t. Don't push me,” Sam says, easily grabbing Dean’s hands. “It won't be permanent. We've been around each other every day for _how_ many months? It's not healthy, man.”

"No! You aren't allowed to do this. Not after I tell you I fucking love you!" Dean’s getting more anxious and agitated, his voice loud and full of pain.  

"Dean." Sam lets go of Dean’s hands and touches his face gently. "I know it hurts. It's hurting me too. But I'm not changing my mind."

"I'm too hard, you got bored. That's the real reason why you're leaving. Isn't it?" Dean hides his face as he speaks but Sam catches a glimpse of tears.

“No. That's not it at all. If I was going to leave because you were too hard, it would’ve happened when you were violent - not now that you're getting better.”

“Fine,” Dean says, pushing Sam's hands away. “Stop touching me.”

Sam wilts and nods, movements jerky. “I'll be here for a couple more days to wait for Jody but I understand if you want nothing to do with me in that time.”

 

* * *

 

 

Not long after the blow up with Dean, Jimmy calls. He agrees to Sam staying with him and Claire as long as Sam needs without question. There's a few _“what did you do?”_ type questions but it's not something Sam wants to spill over the phone. So he promises to give Jimmy whatever details he wants in person.

 Dean goes a full day without eating and when he finally _does_ eat they're very small and deliberate bites. In between each one he sends Sam scathing looks. He doesn't finish his meal, doesn't even eat half of it before he's pushing it away. When Sam doesn't immediately leave afterward, Dean finally speaks.

 “You're going to Jimmy’s, yeah? Just go. Go be happy with him and leave me alone,” Dean says and wipes his eyes.

"I'm not leaving until Jody gets here. And I already told you - Jimmy's a friend. I don't understand why you think it's more than that."

Dean's hands tangle in his bed sheets. “Because you're _leaving_ me to go to _him,_ Sam.”

"I _am_ seeing Jimmy - but it's not just him. Claire will be there too. I don't get it, I'm not allowed to visit a close friend?" Sam asks softly, his chest aching. "I hope our time apart shows you how important friendships are."

 “I don't care how many friends you have! Have as many as you want. It's that you're _leaving_ and I have no fucking clue when you'll be back. Now let me sleep in fucking peace, will you?”

 When Jody arrives, Dean explodes and starts breaking shit. It's very reminiscent of the early days of Dean's time in the bunker.“Get out, get out, get out!” Dean says through tears. At first, Sam thinks Dean is talking to Jody - but then he turns and points at Sam. “ _Leave_ , damn you. Get out of here!”

 Sam grabs his bags and sends Jody a quick glance, asking permission. “It's fine, Sam. Do what you have to do.”

 And, with that, Sam does what he apparently does best - he flees.

 

* * *

 

  
Sam drags himself out of the Impala and trudges over to Jimmy's front door, his chest aching as he knocks on it.

Jimmy answers the door, concern evident in the worry line between his brows. "You look like I did when I left the church.”

Sam falls to his knees right there on the goddamn porch, crying. Jimmy drops and  gathers Sam in his arms. "I'm here for you.”

Sam lets out a shuddering breath and wraps his arms around Jimmy's neck, seeking comfort, seeking release from the never-ending pain. "Things _really_ aren't good right now. I don't know what to do.”

Jimmy runs his fingers through Sam's hair. "Why don't we get you in the house and you can tell me about it.”

"Okay," Sam rasps and stands up.  
  
Jimmy collects Sam's meager bags and follows him into the living room. He places Sam's things on the floor and sits on the couch, patting the cushion beside him for Sam to sit too.

Sam ignores Jimmy and kneels at his feet, nuzzling his knees. "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned…”

Jimmy stiffens a little before running his hands through Sam's hair again. "How long has it been since your last confession?"

"Probably years," he croaks. "I've prayed on my own but I don't make habits of confessing to priests."

 “What is it that you need to confess?”

Sam's chest is heavy as he gazes up at Jimmy. "I let my brother fuck me in the ass. Now he thinks he's in love with me."

"What do you mean 'thinks’?”

Sam blinks. “You don't seem all that surprised we fucked.”

“I had a feeling it would happen,” Jimmy says, licking his lips.

“ _What?_ Why the fuck would you think _that_?”

“The way you two were in the diner. How close you were. How he was jealous of me,” Jimmy says with a shrug. “The sexual tension was undeniable. We're getting off track a little here though, Sam. Answer my question. Why don't you think Dean loves you?”

 “He was a virgin. How the fuck could he possibly know already, after only being with me?” Sam demands. “It doesn't make sense.”

 Jimmy nods. “Is that why you're here?”

"Partly," Sam admits. "I've also really missed you. And I think Dean and I need time apart. He... He doesn't share well and I want him to learn how to have friends and people to care about outside of me."

“How did he react to you leaving?”

"Terribly. He regressed to how he was when I first saved him. Told me to leave and be happy with you."

Jimmy inhales sharply and leans forward slightly, pressing closer to Sam. "I knew he was jealous but I didn't think it went that far.”

Sam takes Jimmy's movements as a hint to get off the floor and listens, quickly melting into his side. “He was sure I ride your dick every chance I get."  

A pink flush rises on Jimmy's cheeks. “I suppose I shouldn't be surprised.”

"No. He can't even fully grasp the concept of friends yet. No way can he get this. I hope he will eventually though."

"And what are your feelings for him?" Jimmy asks softly, fingers dancing and caressing Sam's arm.

"I don't know. Why? Why would that matter?”

"I think it's important for you to decide how you feel so that when you go back to him, you can tell him either way," Jimmy says gently.

"Incest: Jimmy approved. Man, I can see why you're an _ex_ priest now. Do you have a secret kink I need to know about?" Sam's deflecting. He knows it. Jimmy knows it. Pretty much anyone would know it. He just hopes his friend doesn't judge him too harshly for his weakness.

Jimmy shrugs. “Love is love. As for kinks, I don't think you _actually_ want to know.”

Sam can't bring himself to look at Jimmy. “Well. Okay then.”

Jimmy gives Sam's thigh a squeeze. “I know you just got here… but is there anyone you need to call?”

_Dammit._

“Yeah,” Sam croaks, dread causes his stomach to twist as he fishes out his phone. He dials Dean’s number but Dean doesn't answer. “Voicemail.”

“Try again.”

“He's gotta be busy. Plus, isn't this a bit too pushy?”

“Just once more,” Jimmy coaxes and Sam relents.

“What?” Dean snaps when he picks up the phone almost as soon as Sam redials.

"I just wanted to see how you were. Show you I'm still here even if I'm not physically with you," Sam whispers, blinking back tears. "I miss you already. Are you treating Jody okay?"  

 “Jody’s fine. She makes me eat,” Dean replies moodily.

Sam squeezes the bridge of his nose. He knew this would be hard but he hadn't anticipated already wanting to hang up and hide. "I'm hoping you'll go see Bobby eventually.”

 “What's the fucking point? What's there to do in a fucking junkyard?”

Sam huffs. "You could work on cars. Learn lore and magic. Work on your rusty people skills. There is _a lot_ you could do there, Dean." 

“Sounds stupid.”

"Stupider than what you're currently doing? C'mon, Dean," Sam replies, pouting. _Both_ of them are.

“Fuck off.”

“Make me,” Sam says on reflex. He's trying to tease and be silly because if he doesn't he'll break down and he _can't._ He's gotta be strong when he talks to Dean.

“I guess I already did.”

 Sam's face falls. “Dean, wait-"

 The line's already dead.

Sam barely resists the urge to throw his phone. Instead, he drops it in his lap and buries his face in his hands. “I think I need to lay down for a bit.”

“Of course, Sam,” Jimmy says, wrapping an arm around Sam's shoulders for a side hug. “Take as long as you need.”

“What about Claire?” Sam asks, still hiding his face.

“She's staying the night with a friend,” Jimmy says and stands up. “Come on. Let's get you to bed.”

Sam wants to complain and resist being treated like a damn kid but he's too emotionally spent. He trudges along after Jimmy to the guest room and doesn't struggle when his friend removes Sam's shoes and tucks him in.

 

* * *

 

 

  
Sam’s only left the guest room for basic necessities like water and using the bathroom since Jimmy tucked him in that first day. He's lost count of how long it's been since he's eaten but he can't bring himself to care.  
  
Unfortunately, Jimmy does, so Sam's waiting for the other shoe to drop. He knows he can't keep going like this. Eventually, his friend will go into papa bear mode and make Sam do things.  
  
He's not looking forward to it.

Finally, Jimmy comes in to sit on the bed by Sam. He reaches over to push Sam’s hair behind his ear. "Sam.”

Sam presses into Jimmy's touch, sending him a guilty look. "What?" he asks softly.

"You have to eat.” Jimmy continues to stroke Sam's hair.

"Humans can live 30-40 days without food as long as they're properly hydrated," Sam points out as he lets himself enjoy Jimmy's touch. "Skipping a few meals won't hurt me that bad."

"Sam,” Jimmy repeats, using his dad voice. "You’ve been in this bed for four days. You need to get up and wash your hair and help me make dinner.”

Sam frowns and flips onto his side. "I'm not a kid. You can't make me," he says petulantly.

"You certainly sound like a kid."

"So?" Sam pouts, burrowing further under the blanket. "Can't you just let me wallow in self-pity?"

"No. Get your ass up out of that bed.”  

Sam flips over again, looking Jimmy in the eyes and raises his chin. "What you gonna do if I don't?”

 “I might spank you,” Jimmy says bluntly. His smile drives the point home. “Get up, Sam.”

“You wouldn't.”

Jimmy leans closer to Sam. “If you get up, you won't have to find out.”  
  
"Fine.” Even to his own ears his voice doesn't hold much heat anymore. "But let me be clear - this is by force and I'm not happy about it."  

Jimmy takes Sam’s hands and helps him up.

"I wanna be mad at you," Sam rasps, not letting go of Jimmy's hands even when he's standing.

"I know. But when you're done you can watch TV with me before bed. Sound good?”

“It does,” Sam grudgingly admits.

“I was going to make stew. Want to help me?”

"Yes," Sam decides after a few moments and makes himself let Jimmy go. "I'll wash my hair in the sink and then we can start."

 

* * *

 

  
"Can I sit down and rest? Watch you work?" Sam asks less than an hour later, resting his weight against the counter as his head swims. He's both light and a thousand pounds, ready to tip over.

"Yes. You did well Sam. Thank you.”

"Are you kidding me?" Sam huffs as he watches Jimmy. "I spent more time trying to not pass out than helping. You don't need to thank me."

"You got up for me when you wanted to feel sorry for yourself. That’s a big deal,” Jimmy points out, as logical as ever.

"You kind of made me. It was either get up or get a spanking,” Sam teases and makes his way to the dinner table. It's in full view of Jimmy, so they can still interact.

 Jimmy's head tilts back as he lets out a genuine belly laugh. “Do you feel better for getting up?”

 “Yeah. It's more fun and entertaining watching you than hiding in bed, that's for sure.”

Jimmy’s brow arches as he glances at Sam then drops oil in the hot pan. He adds the beef, searing it. “I should hope I'm more fun than wasting the days away.”  

“I've been a pain in the ass. And thoughtless to how all of this was affecting you. Sorry about that,” Sam says with a wince.

 “You haven't been that bad.” Jimmy puts a lid on the pot and heads over to Sam, sitting with him.

Sam shakes his head. “What did I do to deserve you?”

Jimmy's smile is fond, reaching his eyes. “Do me a favor and be nice to yourself tonight. Okay? If you can't do it for yourself, do it for me.”

Sam groans and drops his head onto the table. “I'll try.”

And for Jimmy? Sam would. He'd do everything in his power to make tonight awesome for them both.

 

* * *

 

 

  
It’s the longest drive to Bobby's of Sam's fucking life. When he arrives, his heart’s in his throat. He gives himself a small pep talk before exiting the car and scans the salvage yard, looking for any hint of Dean.

He ends up finding him in the back, buffing up an old Chevelle with a wax and wash. Jo is close by, sitting and sipping a lemonade as she watches him work.

Sam's breath hitches at the sight of Dean. He’s fucking obscene in his shorts and wet shirt clinging to him. A walking porno. God, he'd filled out since Sam had last seen him over three months prior. He'd been expecting Dean to be around the same size or maybe weigh a few pounds less. But Dean's clothes fit him beautifully. Even his hair, which is longer than Sam is accustomed to seeing it, looks perfect on him.  
  
And the way Dean _moves_ .  
  
He doesn’t look skittish or unsure.    
  
Then Sam remembers _Jo_ is there and an ugly emotion churns inside him. He doesn't like the way her eyes rake over Dean, like he's something she wants. To make matters worse, Dean’s grinning at her. Laughing occasionally as they speak. He seems happy.

Which is _good._ It is! This is exactly what Sam wanted. For Dean to get close to people, learn how to want things, and make his own choices in life.

 _Yeah, but Jo?_  
  
"Hey, guys," Sam says as loud as he dares. "Sorry to interrupt."

“Sam!” Jo says, body jerking to face him. Sam can't tell if the frustration on her face is because she didn't notice his presence right away like a hunter should or because she wishes he wasn't there at all. “Didn't think we'd be seeing _you_ anytime soon.”

 Okay, maybe a bit of both. Sam can't hold it against her though - people should _want_ to protect Dean from Sam.

“Yeah, I know -"

Dean growls and drops the sponge he had been using to clean with. He stalks over to Sam, puffing his chest in a show to make himself look more tough. He throws a punch at Sam's face but Sam's ready for it and tackles Dean to the ground. “That's a pretty shitty hello, Dean.”

 “What the _fuck_ are you doing here?” Dean asks, baring his teeth and struggles beneath Sam.

“Woah!” Jo says and Sam thinks she might have put down her drink. “Dean… come on. I know Sam hurt you but this isn't the way to deal with it. You can't assault every person who pisses you off.”

"Excuse you?" Sam moves so he's  straddling Dean and does his best to keep his arms pinned. " I'm allowed here whenever I want. And Jo speaks the truth.”

Dean glares up at him. "Get the fuck _off_ me! And if Jo _really_ understood what an asshole you were, she'd be wanting to hit you too.”

Sam leans down so his mouth ghosts over Dean's ear. "Or what? You gonna try to hit me? Oh, wait, you already did that.”

 "We grew up together,” Jo adds, moving closer to them. “I think I have an idea of the kind of man Sam is. Come on, guys. Get off the ground.”

“Just leave me alone,” Dean says miserably and Sam can't know for sure who he's talking to.

"I'm not leaving," Sam says stubbornly. "But if you promise not to attack me I'll let you up."

“No. _Now_ ,” Jo cuts in, grabbing Sam's arm.

Sam sighs and lets Jo help him up. “Okay but it _is_ kind of weird you aren't angrier and out for my blood,” he tells Jo.

“I know I've developed a bit of a reputation among hunters but I'm _really_ trying to work on my anger. I'm still the freak with a knife collection - but I'm a happier freak.” Her eyes find Dean and she gives him a fond look.

“So, uh. You guys hang out often then?” Sam asks, that ugly feeling returning.

"Why do you care?" Dean asks. He gets up and dusts himself off. "Just go away."

Sam crosses his arms, feeling petulant and, for once, not sorry at all. " No. I think I'll sit down and watch you work. See what you and Jo think is so funny."

Dean stares at Sam hard and unfriendly. "Why are you here, huh? Did you come to take me away? Did you come to fuck everything up again?"

 “I'm sure Sam missed you,” Jo says softly, stroking Dean's arm before sitting back down.

 “I _did_ ,” Sam agrees, sending Jo a grateful look. “And I _told_ you I'd come back. I meant it. But you're a free man. I'll only take you home if you go willingly.”

“Whatever,” Dean grumbles.

Jo coughs awkwardly and goes back to sipping her lemonade.

Sam goes over to stand near Jo. “You gonna keep having fun with the car or what?”

“Yeah, I'm gonna finish washing the car. Bobby asked me to do it. What did you expect to happen here?” Dean demands, raising his chin. “Did you think you would stroll in here and I would run into your arms like a pathetic little bitch? You're a fucking _threat_ , Sam. Every time I find myself feeling okay with how things are going, you show up and fuck it up. Stay away from me.”

Jo glances up at Sam. “You should go. Let him walk this off. You're making it worse right now.”

“Okay, yeah. Sure,” Sam says with a quick nod and walks back to the house.

Once inside, he finds Jody in the kitchen peeling potatoes. "Jody! Uh. How you doing?" he asks instead of the more obvious 'oh god, did you see me out there on top of Dean'?  

 “Doing better than you seem to be.”

 Sam splutters, freezing in place. “What makes you say that?”

Jody looks at Sam with a raised brow. " I could hear Dean yelling. Saw him throw that punch."

Sam flushes and gazes down at his shoes. "I knew it would be hard. But knowing and experiencing it are two different things. That being said... I _won't_ leave. Not yet."

Jody puts down her work and pulls Sam into a hug. "He's doing well here. He even talks to customers from time to time."

Sam holds Jody tight. "I'm glad. Really. It's what I hoped would happen for him.”

"He still has bad days, though. Sometimes he doesn't leave his bed. Deep down, he misses you.” Jody holds Sam just as hard.

 Sam swallows back tears. “Never would have guessed it with the way he's acting.”

Jody rubs his back. "He hides his hurt in anger a lot.”  

"That's very true," Sam says with difficulty. It’s hard to let her go. "Need help with dinner?"

"Always. You can finish peeling the potatoes and carrots for me." Jody gives Sam a smile and pats his cheek. "Just give him some time. He needs to learn to trust you again."

 

* * *

 

 

  
Jo refuses to fucking leave and Dean seems delighted with every second she’s there - which means dinner is torture. Every giggle, every inside joke, every caress Jo gives Dean is a knife in the heart. It makes him feel like a goddamn outsider.  
  
It also worries him to no end. At the end of the day, Jo’s a sister to him and he doesn’t want to see her hurt.  
  
"Hey, Jo... can I talk to you a minute?" Sam asks while Dean’s getting ready to put a movie on after dinner.

 “Okay.” Jo's brows furrow and she follows Sam upstairs.

Once alone, Sam’s blunt and quick. "I see the way you look at and touch Dean. It's not a good idea. If you want a romantic partner, go elsewhere."

Jo crosses her arms over herself. "I never took you to be someone to give unwanted relationship advice, Sam."

Sam bites back a smile. _There_ is the sassy attitude he knows and loves. Not... whatever the fuck Jo is doing to get Dean's attention. "I know. I hate unsolicited advice, too. Jimmy has given me plenty of it. But I _really_ don't think you two would be a good fit."

"Is that so? And what _would_ be a good fit for him, Sam? He's talked to me, you know. About his past.”   

 Sam licks his lips. "He doesn't love you, okay? He doesn't feel the way you seem to feel about him. Dean... his heart belongs to someone else."

 “Oh, do you mean _you_?”

_Fuck._

“What?” Sam yelps, shaking his head. “N-"

“He told me about what happened,” Jo cuts in, lifting her chin.

“Why?”

Jo shrugs. "Because he felt alone and upset and needed someone to talk to."  

“I guess I get it. He's not the only one.”

“Yeah?” Jo reaches out and rubs Sam's arm.

"Yeah. I told Jimmy," Sam rasps, shivering. "Anyway... that's not the point of this conversation. Chasing Dean will get you hurt.”

 “So I should leave him to the one who _hurt him_?” she tosses back.

Sam coughs awkwardly. "It's not like that! I don't want _you_ to get hurt. And you will get hurt if you think he'll date you or be with you."

 “I'm a big girl, Sam.”

"I know!" Sam grits his teeth and rubs a hand over his face, inexplicably frustrated. "Maybe you should ask Dean since you don't seem to believe me."

 “I will,” Jo says, heading back down the stairs.

Sam trails after her. He knows he shouldn't, but the idea of leaving them alone makes him a little crazy.

"Everything ok?" Dean asks when they come into view.  
  
Jo sits down beside Dean on the couch and takes his hand. "It's pretty blatant that I've had my eye on you."  
  
Dean blinks. "Yeah?"  
  
"I just wanted to know if there could be more there between us. What with the flirting and all."  
  
“Fuck. Jo..." Dean rubs his face. "Listen. I think you're great, and yeah, we were flirting. But I thought it was all in good fun."

"All in good fun," Sam repeats without thinking, leaning against the wall.  
  
Jo shoots Sam a glare but there's tears in her eyes. "I don't understand. Why did you share so much with me? Why did you let me touch you? Why did you touch me? I thought..."  

"Shit. I thought that's what friends do.Didn't realize it was more than that. I'm sorry."

Tears fall freely from Jo's eyes. "So the kissing didn't mean anything?"

 “It didn't mean more than friendship. I'm really fucking sorry, Jo.”

  
"Okay." Jo wipes her eyes. "That's okay. But I gotta process this."

Dean pulls her into a gentle hug. “I'm really sorry I led you on.”

"It's my fault. I should have communicated how I felt sooner," Jo says, squirming out of Dean's arms.

"We can still be friends, I hope?" Dean asks, giving Jo space.

"I don't know. Probably. Eventually. But I need time," Jo chokes out then turns away from Dean, running right into Sam. "God!"  
  
"I'm sorry," Sam whispers. He doesn’t dare hug Jo but he touches her arm.  
  
"No, you're not.”  
  
Sam blushes. "Jo -"  
  
"Don't. Just... fucking don't," Jo replies tightly. "But I swear to god, Sam, if you break Dean's heart again I'll fucking kick your ass."

And with that, Jo gathers her things and leaves.    
  
Sam clears his throat. "Still wanna watch movies?"

Dean sends Sam a venomous look, gets up and walks upstairs without a word, the door to his room closing louder than necessary.  

 

* * *

 

 

When Sam wakes the next morning, he feels even more tired than he had the night prior. He winces as he gets up and stretches, heading to the kitchen for coffee.

 Dean's there and Sam can practically see the storm cloud around his head.

 “Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?” Sam asks as he pours himself a cup of coffee.

 “Fuck off,” Dean spits.

“I don't want to.”

Dean huffs and shoves bread in the toaster.

“I fucked up bad, I know I did - but not with Jo,” Sam says softly. “So if you're mad at me for that… I can't really apologize.”

Dean rolls his eyes and grabs a couple eggs from the fridge. He cuts a generous helping of butter, plopping it in the pan before turning it on. “I didn't bring her up, you did. And no, Sam. Jo’s just the tip of the iceberg of what's wrong here. I won't let you hurt me again."

"I won't. I won't let myself hurt you either. It's why I waited so long to come see you. Wanted to be sure."

Dean's shoulders stiffen. "What exactly are you saying? Sure of what?”

"U-um." Sam swallows thickly, inwardly kicking himself. "I wanted to be sure of how I feel about you. Before seeing you."

Dean turns around then, crossing his arms. “And how's that?"

Sam takes a deep, cleansing breath and looks directly into Dean's eyes. He can't lie. Not when asked so directly. "I'm in love with you."  

Dean's breath hitches, eyes and mouth softening for a moment before it's a hard line again. "So?”

Sam blinks. "You asked me a question. I answered it. If you didn't care about the answer maybe you shouldn't have asked."  

"What I mean is: what do you want me to do about it?”

Sam worries his lip between his teeth. “That's the thing. You don't need to come with me, that's not why I'm here. I just wanted to be honest with you.”

“How could someone like you love a fucked up mess like me?”

“Nobody's perfect,” Sam rasps, taking a step towards Dean. “And you say that as if I'm _not_ a fucked up mess.”

“I'm scared, Sam,” Dean says, keeping distance between them by taking a step back and hitting the stove. “That morning after we had sex? Before you told me you had to leave? Best of my life. I want you, Sam. I just can't trust you.”

“I get it,” Sam says, nodding. “Like I said - feel free to stay with Jody and Bobby. I'll be here a few days and then I'll leave.”

Dean turns back around and drops three eggs into the spluttering pan. Sam knows when he's being dismissed - this is what it looks like. Conversation over. “Want some breakfast?”

Sam hesitates. He's not all that hungry but _Dean_ is offering him food. An olive branch of sorts, maybe.

He has to take it.

“Yeah. I do.”

 

* * *

 

 

After the argument in the kitchen, Sam can't help but notice a shift in his brother. He wouldn't label Dean _friendly_ but the aggression fades a little more each time they're forced to interact. It was a front after all - Dean was afraid when Sam showed up. Probably still is. And who could blame him? Not Sam.

When Sam's ready to return home, Dean's nowhere to be seen. Jody gives Sam a sympathetic look as she says her goodbyes.

Sam rubs at his eyes and throws his bag in the backseat before slowly sliding into the impala. He lays his forehead against the steering wheel as he swallows back tears. He knows he has to leave. He does. But the shock has worn off and he knows now - this is it. Who knows how long it'll be before he sees Dean again. If Dean even _wants_ to see him again -

The passenger door opens and Dean slides in with a backpack of his meager belongings.

“Hey! Why didn't you tell me you were coming?” Sam asks, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

"I kinda decided last minute." Dean shoves his backpack into the backseat.

"Oh really?" Sam's pretty sure he's giving Dean heart eyes. "What led to this last minute decision, huh?"

Dean looks up at Sam, expression unreadable but making Sam ache nonetheless. "I couldn't stand to see you walk away from me again."  

 Sam's breath hitches. “As long as this is where you wanna be.”

 Dean doesn't answer with words. He nods and opens the glove box, searching through the cassettes. Sam's always wanted to update the car or get an iPod jack or anything really - but he's set aside all his spare money for Dean for years. He's been frugal in as many ways as he knows how in preparation for his brother.

“We need music,” Dean decides after a few moments of silence.

“Go for it,” Sam rasps.

 

* * *

 

 

  
Over the next few weeks, things are tense between Sam and Dean - to say the least. They're dancing around something big and trying to be friends. It usually works.

Today isn't working as well.

Sam's watching Dean clean one of Sam's guns. He sneakily covers his half hard dick with his hand and hopes Dean doesn't notice.

"So I found a shooting range when I was exploring the other day,” Dean says, glancing at Sam.

"Yeah? And?" Sam croaks, inwardly cringing at how horny he sounds. "We don't need it. You don't even need to be doing _this_. The cleaning is unnecessary."

Dean raises an eyebrow. "I got to be a pretty good shot at Bobby's. I don't wanna lose it."

Sam squints at Dean suspiciously. "Why do you not wanna lose it?"

  
"Because it's a good skill to have, Sam. Especially since I want to start hunting."

"No fucking way." Sam shakes his head. The very thought _terrifies_ him.

  
Dean laughs and Sam can't help but think it's _at_ Sam. "What makes you think you can stop me?"

"Well, you can't fucking hunt _alone_ , Dean. You wouldn't survive. It'd be suicide," Sam points out.

"I'm not an idiot, Sam,” Dean shoots back.  “If I'm not hunting with you, I'd be hunting with Bobby or Jody. Or even Jo."

“So why did you even come back if you just plan on hunting?”

"I wanna hunt with _you_ , Sam. But you obviously hate the idea."

Sam gets out of his seat, agitated and trying not to show it. “My plan was always to leave the hunting life if I ever found you. It was always to start over and aim for normal. What if you get triggered while on a case? You gotta go undercover a lot - kinda hard to fly under the radar if you're having flashbacks or biting someone's head off.”

"What the fuck else am I supposed to do, Sam? Sit around here with my thumbs up my ass?" Dean gets up too.

"No! I don't want that either. I want you to feel fulfilled and happy," Sam gasps out. His chest is tight. His world imploding. "I want you safe. Fuck."

"I’m not exactly normal!” Dean’s close to yelling. “Safe isn’t gonna happen.”

Sam eyes burn. "I just don't want you dying like dad. You’ve still got so much to live for. Every single hunt could be your last.”

  
"I don't want what happened to me happening to anyone else,” Dean says, tone harsh.

Sam gestures between them and steps closer to his brother, frustration growing. "It _can_ happen to someone else. It _has_ and _will_ continue to happen. Not everyone can be saved. Not everyone can have a happy ending. It doesn't need to be our job or on us to save everyone.”

"Do you think you own me? Think you can tell me what to do with my life?” Dean demands. His eyes flash with anger and he licks his lips. “I still wanna _try_ to save everyone, Sam. I can't turn it off even if I wanted to. But for some fucking reason you want me to be a compliant housewife.”

Sam can’t help but stare at Dean's tongue. At the end of the day he’s only a man.  
  
"I don't think I own you!" Sam says, getting more flustered by the second.

Dean crowds into Sam's space. "Then why do you think it's okay to tell me what I can and can't do with my life?”

Sam's breath hitches and he doesn’t move away. "Me wanting you to _not_ die is telling you what to do with your life?”

Dean growls and _kisses_ Sam. It's biting, angry, and weirdly perfect.

"Oh fuck." Sam moans into Dean's mouth, trembling as he kisses Dean back just as hard. Then he’s falling to his knees and nuzzling at Dean’s crotch.

"Jesus, Sam." Dean slides his fingers into Sam's hair and ruts his hard cock against Sam's face.

Sam sucks at Dean's crotch through his pants with a soft whine. "Please."

 “Please what?” Dean asks, fingers tightening in Sam's hair.

Sam's insides melt at the attention. He gazes up at Dean through his lashes. "Please can I suck you?"

"Help yourself."

Sam shivers and flicks Dean's buttons open with practiced ease. "You haven't... let anyone else do this, have you?"

“No. It's only been you.”

"Fuck," Sam breathes, tugging Deans underwear down beneath his balls so his cock springs free. "Is it bad I like that? Wanted it to be me."  

Dean shakes his head. "No,” he replies and tugs on Sam's hair so he can press his cock along Sam's cheekbone. His pre-come leaves a sticky line. "I like it."

"Really? Why?" Sam lets out a slutty, needy moan and turns his head so he can kitten lick the head of Dean's dick.

 “I like the idea of you wanting me.”

"So fucking bad," Sam admits, sucking the tip of Dean's cock gently. "Jerk myself off thinking about you."

“Show me. Show me how much you want me,” Dean pants softly.

 Sam does, swallowing Dean down to the base of his cock and groans around him.

“ _Sammy!”_

Sam's never been a fan of the nickname ‘Sammy’ but coming from Dean in this moment? It's exactly what he wants to hear.


	6. Chapter 6

  
Sam watches Claire and Dean play catch. Claire’s completely uninterested in tossing a ball around and he can’t say he blames her.

 “You could look a little more excited,” Dean says, loud enough for Sam and Jimmy to hear.

 Jimmy snorts and lifts his arm, resting it on the bench. He brushes against Sam, easy and familiar and Sam stiffens. A year ago, he'd be melting into his friend’s side without a second thought. It feels wrong now, though. Wrong and bad since it hurts Dean so much. So he tries to stay still and keep some distance between them.

"This is lame," Claire whines. "You should train me.”  
  
Sam turns his head and towards Jimmy. "Dean's been training to hunt. Got any advice on how to handle this?”

Jimmy sighs through his nose then shrugs. "Maybe get a protection spell from Max?"  
  
"All right." Dean grins at Claire. "Run to that  tree and back. Lets see how fast you can go!”

Claire giggles at Dean and sets to it, running as fast as she can.  
  
"Why do you sound irritated?" Sam asks, frowning.

“I'm not irritated, Sam. I just don't know how to help you.” This time, there's no way the touch is an accident. Jimmy runs his fingers through Sam's hair. It's not a romantic gesture. It's not sexual. _Sam_ knows this. But Dean… he's not there yet.

Sam moves his head away from Jimmy, away from his hand. "You're a good man, Jimmy. Honestly, I was mostly venting... but Max is a great idea. I'll talk to him, for sure. How have _you_ been doing?"

“Same shit, different day,” Jimmy says, lowering his hand down to his lap. His cheeks flush apple red. “It's felt off since you left. I know the circumstances were bad but…” he sighs. “It's been an experience adjusting.”  

“I hope you grow on Dean. I hope he starts to see that you're a friend and not a threat,” Sam rasps, offering Jimmy a hesitant smile. It's as bad as he'd feared and he hates that he can't fix it. It's up to Dean and Jimmy to reach a better place. Not Sam.

“What if Dean ends up liking me, not just tolerating me?” Jimmy asks, elbowing Sam's side.

Dean chooses that moment to interrupt and wriggle his way between them. “Hands off my man, Novak.”

 Sam chuckles and kisses Dean’s temple. “My beautiful, possessive brother.”

  
“Oh, sure. Cause you _aren’t,_ right? Please. You couldn’t _wait_ to get me away from Jo.” Dean wraps and arm around Sam's back, drawing him closer. “What you guys talkin’ about anyway?”

Sam turns to gently grip Dean's chin and kiss him lightly on the mouth. "Told him you still wanna help. And that I'm hoping Jimmy grows on you. I dunno, we didn't get very far.”

"Maybe if he stops molesting you in the park,” Dean grumbles and kisses Sam back before pulling away so they can all keep an eye on Claire.

"Hey, Dean?" Claire calls, running over to them. Then she puts her hands on her hips and stares him down. "Why do you hate my dad?"

Dean gives her a grin. "Because he sucks, sweetie."  
  
Jimmy sighs, saying nothing.

Claire glares at Dean, unamused. "Don't be a jerk, Dean. That's _my_ dad you're talking about."

Dean blinks. “Uh… okay. I'll try.”

Claire points at Dean then points at Jimmy. "Apologize. You hurt his feelings."  
  
Sam bites his lip, trying to hold back his laughter.

Dean clears his throat. “Sorry, Jimmy.”

“Thank you, Dean. I accept your apology."  
  
"Don't fucking laugh."  
  
Jimmy practically _giggles_. "It's not you, I swear."

Claire pouts hard. "Are you laughing at _me_? That's not nice either, you know."

Jimmy shakes his head. “No, honey. I'm laughing at the situation.”

Claire scowls a bit longer before softening and leans in to kiss Jimmys cheek. "You're fucking weird."  
  
Sam's eyes widen. “ _Claire.”_  
  
Claire's dangerously close to being a teenager but hearing her curse in front of Jimmy is still a lot to process. Especially since Jimmy is an ex priest.

"You're fucking weird too.” Jimmy watches his daughter, eyes fond and full of deep, enduring love.

 “We're _all_ fucking weird,” Dean chimes in, nudging Sam.

“Yeah,” Sam agrees. “We are.”

 

* * *

 

 

  
It’s barely sunrise when Sam wakes and lazily kisses Dean. He didn't want the day to start but he also can't sleep - so kissing Dean is the best decision he can possibly make at such an ungodly hour.

 Dean sleepily kisses Sam back, eyes shut as his arms wrap around Sam. The amulet shifts between them as Sam keeps kissing his brother. He puts all his love into those kisses, grateful they're finally healing - together. Miraculously, they're making progress without the help of a therapist. Sam's still not ready to give up hope on finding one, though. He's heard whispers of a werewolf who could help but the challenge is convincing her that Sam won't kill her. 

Sometimes being a well known hunter is a pain in the fucking ass. 

Dean moves and straddles Sam's hips, interrupting Sam's thoughts. After a few seconds, he places his hand on Sam's chest and bends down to kiss him again.

"Hey, hey, hey," Sam croaks between kisses. "Not trying to get sex out of you. Just saying hello.”

"I'm not looking for sex, Sam,” Dean says. "Just wanted to get closer to you." He curls his hand around the amulet and presses his chest against Sam's for another kiss.

Sam whimpers, his pulse fluttering in his throat. This is the first time Dean has ever purposely touched the amulet and he doesn't know what to make of it. "I always wanna be closer to you."

Dean nuzzles at Sam's throat then pulls back. He takes a deep breath, pulling the amulet over Sam's head and looks at it a moment. He flicks his eyes to Sam's and stares at him as he puts the amulet on.

"Fuck, Dean," Sam breathes, his eyes going wide. He runs his fingertips shakily along Dean's sternum. "Are you sure?"

Dean takes Sam's face in his hands and gives him a slow, sweet kiss. "Yeah,” he rasps against Sam's mouth. "I'm sure.”

"I was beginning to think you'd never want it," Sam says, voice cracking as his eyes well up with tears. "Was trying to be okay with it, you know? But... deep down it still hurt."

“Don’t cry, Sammy.” Dean wipes and kisses away Sam’s tears. "I wanna wear it for the rest of my life.”

It's the best thing Sam's heard in months.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated! If you think I've missed any important tags, please let me know.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Art] Nothing To Lose (And Everything To Gain)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16312286) by [Wearingdeantoprom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wearingdeantoprom/pseuds/Wearingdeantoprom)




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